They say that with parents, giving unconditional love is natural for them. But children like us, will always expect too much from them. It's never enough.
I grew up handling the joy and pain of being a kid of an impatient guy. He's very quick to temper and a disciplinarian. Sometimes, I try to explain his actions to my friends, who have witnessed how he can be unreasonable at times. But through it all I was lucky that God gave me the chance to know my father's wonderful side at a young age that even to this day that he gets crappy (^_^), I can still love him unconditionally.
From time to time, I would remember the night when I went to visit the house of my aunt. I think I was around five years old back then. I've been wanting to go home but my grandmother, who took me to my aunt's house, didn't want to go back to our home. I know my father will be looking for me so I waited for him to come. But the night came and he still didn't show up. I didn't have a choice but to stay.
Then, at the break of dawn, I woke up and saw, from the window, a glimpse of a man coming from the street. I knew it was my father but I wasn't sure. He knocked for a long time, and I just stared at the window. I wanted my aunt to open the door, but being a shy girl, I couldn't bring my self to wake her up. In the end, my dad decided to go home. But not without trying long enough to wake someone up. Only, it was just me who woke up and not anyone else. I watched as he turned his back, walk away, turned again and watch the house, then went home.
Up until this day, my eyes well up whenever I remember it. I know, once my father is forever gone, I will, forever, hold on to this memory. As I grew up, I saw his imperfections. I saw the good and bad things. And, like any other human being, I sometimes fail to love him. But whenever I feel this way, my mind (and heart) brings me back to that memory of my childhood, when my father showed me love unconditionally, with that simple look as he was trying to decide whether to leave me there or continue to knock at the door. By going to my aunt's house after work, in the wee hours of the morning, he was hoping that he can gather his family to sleep in one roof that day as he watch over us.
Even up until today, my father will not sleep until he knows everyone who plans to go home will be in the house.
My bro doesn't know this. But I silently watch sometimes, while he waits for him. Father-Son relationship is always a different thing. I wish I could explain to bro that inspite of their differences, my father loves him. But sometimes you have to let life take it's course when everything else you try to do fails.
Back to my story, I still haven't mentioned it to my father. Because everytime I try, I feel the lump in my throat growing. I hope one day I get the chance.
Happy Father's Day!
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