Well... life can be full of dramas and turns but this one really kicked the helloutta me ... inspired by my own sentiments to the man who gave me my life!
MY FATHER’S EYES
It’s been a long time (I cant even recall the last time) since I’ve written you a letter… most of my letters then were full of childish feelings… the scathed ego of a child who longs for a father. I vaguely remember the last time I had a talked with you, there’s a medical term for that I think… fugue state, evading or simply choosing the memories you want to remember and eliminating the bad ones. Funny, but all I had were the simple and happy memories I had with you, back then, when Papa is still the hippest and the coolest dad in the world. For the last time I want to savor the thought of my childhood in the arms of my father whom I put in the highest pedestal…maybe I’ve been so bitter because every time I look at you now, there’s anguish inside me… no, I don’t hate you anymore than I used to… what I have is pain inside me… the wounded child in me, up to now I guess, never outgrew the unhealed marks of expectations. I pity you more than ever… you’ve never been around to see your children made some remarkable changes in their lives, the way they’ve outgrown the bitter tests of life. I wish you’ve known the feeling of seeing your kids protecting each other from all the oddities of life… how they piled together in their sleep despite being grown-ups now. Have you ever experienced seeing them rush to the dining table in their most hungry ways? how they cried for each other’s failure and stand together victoriously?… I wish you’ve known the feeling because I’ve known how it feels seeing my siblings that way… I’ve seen them through my eyes… not from your eyes but from mine. It hurts knowing you’re there and yet so far away… time and space shouldn’t be a hindrance… but it was, I wanted so much to blame you for everything--- my failures, my aches but I took a swig… I should be grateful more than anything… you’ve made me the person that I am right now.
I grew up searching your face in every man I’ve met… seeking the father that you were once… the pampering smile, the ever patient eyes, the understanding touch and the loving thoughts. I remember those smile and that big guffaw every time I cracked some jokes, you’ve always been my kid-boasting father…the jealous one, remember how you once straight-faced asked my first boyfriend of his intentions toward me… and how I cried seeing how intimidated he was. From then on, I told myself to find a man worthy of your expectations… brave enough to face you… I wanted someone equally strong and brave as you. But I was wrong. All my illusions of a great father that you were once would put me into great distress… I continuously look but I never saw. The virile father that I thought you were crumbled in my delusional mind… I saw how weakling “my hero”… you are but not different to all the men that I loathed over the years… you never let your emotions ruled over your head but your hormones… you are now nearing your fifties and what have you achieved? Grown up kids who conceal their feelings for the man who maybe their source of life but not the well of their strengths, I am nearing my thirties now… 2 more years of struggling blocks… 2 more years of inquisitive search for the life that I ought to be taken… in front of me as I look in the mirror is a woman with every inch of fears residing in my heart. Fear of failures for my future, I’ve passed the prime of seething days when I’d cursed you for all the misfortunes I’ve embodied myself with… ahead of me is a woman, dauntless and willing to take the big plunge, learning to TRUST and be loved by any body who’d come her way… grabbing every single minute of ridiculed opportunity. Saving every ounce of her puckish ways… living life to the fullest and at the end of the day sipping coffee with the man who puts back the TRUST that were once betrayed. Twilight would be so beautiful with no bitterness or pain left only memories of how wonderful life once taught her. I hope for those things, I look for that woman… I don’t know where or when to start finding the courage to be like her when in all my 28 bitter years, I’ve but pain and solitude emptiness conferring me… how can I forgive and totally forget? How can I say it’s over when my own battle hasn’t started yet? How can I TRUST, when the man who promised to catch me each time I’d fall, has betrayed me? But then, who am I not to forgive, I know you’re eyes would naggingly questioned me? I am not the GOD who could be mercifully forgiving… I don’t let people mock me and endure every stone cast upon me… I’d fight back, hurtfully find ways to get even then, I’d forgive. I don’t have that heart of stone that doesn’t get tarnished nor scathed. I am just another soul who gets hurt and lets time heal every wounded corner of her beating heart. I hope to cry again, for the last time this time not because of the twinge I harbored from you but because I know in my heart, I’ve seen the eyes that speaks tenderly, soothingly embrace his fault without asking for forgiveness, seeking, and longing for the once title nature has granted him… I WISH TO SEE MY FATHER’S EYES…then and only then, I could move on and meet the woman I’d hope to be, for I know I’ve totally forgiven and overcome the pain you solely costs me.
“… For in my father’s eyes
My worth is priceless
In him I worth every time
And mile he grabs by the hand…
A cherish possession worth more than his LIFE.”
(About the writer: Perilously hoping to seek truth in every edges her eyes could grasp… writing is expressing one’s color and individuality. It is not a task one should perform it is passion that everyone should have. “What is a man without passion? An empty soul, who walks aimlessly.”