I am living very near where I grew up now, and with that experiencing things and being around people day-to-day for the first time in nearly a decade.
It's odd how so many things about home have continued to stay the same; it's as if everything remains frozen or isolated in some habitat that keeps away change...take my dad for example.
I have always remembered him as a patient, wise, hard-working man who loved my siblings and I--and my mother even more. Nothing has changed. How is it that I feel I have changed enormously, several times throughout my years, yet my father seems to me to have had no transformation? Maybe it's because of age, our experiences, our personalities, or it even could be the fact that external perceptions are often misplaced.
And yet I write this because of my dad, who exists in my mind almost no differently than the way I remember him growing up except for one thing: his slowness to anger. Like any child growing up with a father, they can remember him cursing and yelling in frustration with something. It's usually a humbling experience because there is this figure who is always right while you are always wrong...an individual who is strong and unwavering...wise and deep in experience--who is suddenly subject to a fate that is beyond his control.
Over the last few months, I have seen some unlucky things happen with my dad. And he simply deals with it now with a laugh; a joke at himself and a deflection to the fates that have continued to befuddle him while I was away. He doesn't yell and curse anymore, and somehow this reaction was always in him in other things he did. It's merely as if his sense of justice and equilibrium with the world has stayed the same, but now he has learned to accept it for himself.
I pray that I can inherit this wisdom!
It's odd how so many things about home have continued to stay the same; it's as if everything remains frozen or isolated in some habitat that keeps away change...take my dad for example.I have always remembered him as a patient, wise, hard-working man who loved my siblings and I--and my mother even more. Nothing has changed. How is it that I feel I have changed enormously, several times throughout my years, yet my father seems to me to have had no transformation? Maybe it's because of age, our experiences, our personalities, or it even could be the fact that external perceptions are often misplaced.
And yet I write this because of my dad, who exists in my mind almost no differently than the way I remember him growing up except for one thing: his slowness to anger. Like any child growing up with a father, they can remember him cursing and yelling in frustration with something. It's usually a humbling experience because there is this figure who is always right while you are always wrong...an individual who is strong and unwavering...wise and deep in experience--who is suddenly subject to a fate that is beyond his control.
Over the last few months, I have seen some unlucky things happen with my dad. And he simply deals with it now with a laugh; a joke at himself and a deflection to the fates that have continued to befuddle him while I was away. He doesn't yell and curse anymore, and somehow this reaction was always in him in other things he did. It's merely as if his sense of justice and equilibrium with the world has stayed the same, but now he has learned to accept it for himself.
I pray that I can inherit this wisdom!
