22 June 2007, Friday, 11.01pm
Why?
This chapter was actually written since Monday, but somehow with the accumulated backlogs on OR, I was kind of tied down clearing emails. Anyways, last Sunday was one of those saddest moments for me… …
Anger was channeled out via smashing plastic bottle. Why? I shan’t go into details of the happenings of the dispute and argument I had with the someone, whom I call him Pa all these years. And, of course, he started his usual swearing and banging of doors. At the age of 63, he still can’t see the light and the moment of life. How sad. You see, the thing about his vulgarity is so bizarre too, when he swears, those amazing words like chee bye and kan ni lao bu are piercingly hurtful with a smear of hatred. Well, I heard it a lot when I was in the army, but trust me, those vulgarities used on me by the officers or even friends are all powerless on me, but not his. Is it because he’s my father, hence I feel the mental abuse? We grew up with his swearing on us (my siblings too) when we were toddlers, teenagers, adolescents, young adults and in fact, till to date. But, I still could never receive his swearing well. Not immuned and indigestible, yet. Doesn’t it sound strange when both my brothers are already in their parenthood and yet still abused by Pa’s vulgarities? To make it worst, my nephew and nieces are not spared either.
We exchanged vulgarities, and it doesn’t help both ways. We became more agitated and more emotional in getting at each other’s throat. Our feud came a long way, since I was a teenager. In fact, my siblings and I, all three have a common enemy at home, which is unexplainable, and we never liked him. Why is it that I have a father who couldn’t understand the theory of love and relationship? Really, this, beats me.
He never understood us since young; he didn’t really care about our results, he didn’t really care about our lives too. All he ever care is his image presented to others, his money and his bottle of beer which he consumes daily. Don’t get me wrong, he was never an intoxicated physical abusive dad, but his vulgarities are mentally abusive enough. Very fortunate enough, we are still under our mom’s radar of care, she, on the other hand comprehends the theory of love and affection. She shields us since we were kids, till now. She’s almost always on our side when situations arise.
Sigh, just say that my Chinese eight characters crashes with his, big time. We always don’t see eye to eye. Even lately, he seems to be getting on mom’s nerves as well. What is exactly wrong with him? Does he know what he is doing? His wrongdoings were highlighted and verbally corrected to him, but he still errs. He never defeated to failures, and never admitted his mistakes. But truefully, in my heart, he is never a cavalry hero. He was nothing. He is someone whom I am indebted to but yet not so much of affection with.
You don’t know how mad and fuming I was then, to the extend when I could tear and be so heartbroken to know that why am I still sticking around in the house with this old man. There and then, I had a sudden and strange thought. When I told mom how I hate him all these while, mom articulated my thought, clear and smack right in my face, ie, “then quickly get married and move out.” I see this as a sign of God telling me that I should be moving on to the next phase of life. Being a leech to my parents for 29 years, I felt like a manboy whom seems to be unable to unleash my string with them. This is perhaps a very strong signal sent by God to urge me to relook into my life; to have faith in life. I have always been having faith in myself. I remember very clearly that on my 12th birthday (lying in bed after a big fight with knife swaying), praying to God to bring me closer to my Dad (and also inserting a question to God why did it happen on my 12th birthday), and for him to be less hostile, less threatening to us, but evidently, with the years gone past, sitting here writing this at the age of 29, I just had a fight with my Dad last Sunday, and the row we had the following morning too. How depressing. My faith and my prayers to God apparently have not been heard all these while. Or maybe it has? It’s God’s plan to attest my faith in Him? Another obstacle? I give up, Lord, I am so totally giving up in exchanging glance with him at home. It’s not easy. Here is the fact that I’m part of his flesh and blood, and yet the invisible line that causes the numerous frictions and fights we have. You know, I don’t intend to change him for a better man, or to change him to love me, I just need him to see and realize that life has a meaning to fulfil.
Dave (Pelzer), when young went through a more abused state, but still he pulled through, and is now a very successful man. Billions of applauds to him. Does it take for a man to see the true meaning of life just before his deathbed, I wonder? And for his family to see how much they actually love each other in the brink of death? I don’t know. It’s easy to keep asking myself why, but I think I have no reason to ask myself why either.
Saying this in my website helps me to relief my anger, and before I knew it, I no longer feel as mad as I was a few days ago. Ahh, thank God for such technology where I can express and channel out my angst through typing on the keypad.
Pa, I no longer hold any grudge over the incident. But can you just for once see that we are your sons, and we need your fatherly love? Just for this once. Not hoping for more, but just this once to realize that. I forgive your swearings and mental abuse, but I will not forgive you for not loving us as your sons before and after.
I thank God and my Mom, for guiding me through these while, that I still have my sanity in tact, without falling into the evil traps of hooliganisms and felonies, bringing me up to who I am now, despite the ordeal that we went through all those while.
To be honest, having this soft spot in my heart, somewhere, has already discarded my anger as the days go by. I’m already talking to Pa, but not conversation though. Just questions and answers.
Whether has he woken up from his senses, that, I don’t know, and is left mysteriously unspoken till the next eruption, I suppose.
Sigh... why?
Why?
This chapter was actually written since Monday, but somehow with the accumulated backlogs on OR, I was kind of tied down clearing emails. Anyways, last Sunday was one of those saddest moments for me… …
Anger was channeled out via smashing plastic bottle. Why? I shan’t go into details of the happenings of the dispute and argument I had with the someone, whom I call him Pa all these years. And, of course, he started his usual swearing and banging of doors. At the age of 63, he still can’t see the light and the moment of life. How sad. You see, the thing about his vulgarity is so bizarre too, when he swears, those amazing words like chee bye and kan ni lao bu are piercingly hurtful with a smear of hatred. Well, I heard it a lot when I was in the army, but trust me, those vulgarities used on me by the officers or even friends are all powerless on me, but not his. Is it because he’s my father, hence I feel the mental abuse? We grew up with his swearing on us (my siblings too) when we were toddlers, teenagers, adolescents, young adults and in fact, till to date. But, I still could never receive his swearing well. Not immuned and indigestible, yet. Doesn’t it sound strange when both my brothers are already in their parenthood and yet still abused by Pa’s vulgarities? To make it worst, my nephew and nieces are not spared either.
We exchanged vulgarities, and it doesn’t help both ways. We became more agitated and more emotional in getting at each other’s throat. Our feud came a long way, since I was a teenager. In fact, my siblings and I, all three have a common enemy at home, which is unexplainable, and we never liked him. Why is it that I have a father who couldn’t understand the theory of love and relationship? Really, this, beats me.
He never understood us since young; he didn’t really care about our results, he didn’t really care about our lives too. All he ever care is his image presented to others, his money and his bottle of beer which he consumes daily. Don’t get me wrong, he was never an intoxicated physical abusive dad, but his vulgarities are mentally abusive enough. Very fortunate enough, we are still under our mom’s radar of care, she, on the other hand comprehends the theory of love and affection. She shields us since we were kids, till now. She’s almost always on our side when situations arise.
Sigh, just say that my Chinese eight characters crashes with his, big time. We always don’t see eye to eye. Even lately, he seems to be getting on mom’s nerves as well. What is exactly wrong with him? Does he know what he is doing? His wrongdoings were highlighted and verbally corrected to him, but he still errs. He never defeated to failures, and never admitted his mistakes. But truefully, in my heart, he is never a cavalry hero. He was nothing. He is someone whom I am indebted to but yet not so much of affection with.
You don’t know how mad and fuming I was then, to the extend when I could tear and be so heartbroken to know that why am I still sticking around in the house with this old man. There and then, I had a sudden and strange thought. When I told mom how I hate him all these while, mom articulated my thought, clear and smack right in my face, ie, “then quickly get married and move out.” I see this as a sign of God telling me that I should be moving on to the next phase of life. Being a leech to my parents for 29 years, I felt like a manboy whom seems to be unable to unleash my string with them. This is perhaps a very strong signal sent by God to urge me to relook into my life; to have faith in life. I have always been having faith in myself. I remember very clearly that on my 12th birthday (lying in bed after a big fight with knife swaying), praying to God to bring me closer to my Dad (and also inserting a question to God why did it happen on my 12th birthday), and for him to be less hostile, less threatening to us, but evidently, with the years gone past, sitting here writing this at the age of 29, I just had a fight with my Dad last Sunday, and the row we had the following morning too. How depressing. My faith and my prayers to God apparently have not been heard all these while. Or maybe it has? It’s God’s plan to attest my faith in Him? Another obstacle? I give up, Lord, I am so totally giving up in exchanging glance with him at home. It’s not easy. Here is the fact that I’m part of his flesh and blood, and yet the invisible line that causes the numerous frictions and fights we have. You know, I don’t intend to change him for a better man, or to change him to love me, I just need him to see and realize that life has a meaning to fulfil.
Dave (Pelzer), when young went through a more abused state, but still he pulled through, and is now a very successful man. Billions of applauds to him. Does it take for a man to see the true meaning of life just before his deathbed, I wonder? And for his family to see how much they actually love each other in the brink of death? I don’t know. It’s easy to keep asking myself why, but I think I have no reason to ask myself why either.
Saying this in my website helps me to relief my anger, and before I knew it, I no longer feel as mad as I was a few days ago. Ahh, thank God for such technology where I can express and channel out my angst through typing on the keypad.
Pa, I no longer hold any grudge over the incident. But can you just for once see that we are your sons, and we need your fatherly love? Just for this once. Not hoping for more, but just this once to realize that. I forgive your swearings and mental abuse, but I will not forgive you for not loving us as your sons before and after.
I thank God and my Mom, for guiding me through these while, that I still have my sanity in tact, without falling into the evil traps of hooliganisms and felonies, bringing me up to who I am now, despite the ordeal that we went through all those while.
To be honest, having this soft spot in my heart, somewhere, has already discarded my anger as the days go by. I’m already talking to Pa, but not conversation though. Just questions and answers.
Whether has he woken up from his senses, that, I don’t know, and is left mysteriously unspoken till the next eruption, I suppose.
Sigh... why?
posted by chilliseedz at Friday, June 22, 2007
2 Comments:
*hugs*,
seamonkey
*pat* *pat*
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