Dear Journal,
Deep within me is brewing a resentment towards Pa for many days. He sits around all day sleeping and watching TV. All the constructive work he does is play tennis in the morning, ironing and shopping for the house. That is a lot. But he is not looking at the future. He has given up.
My eyes get teary as I remember the ways in which he has humiliated me and put me down.
"Who do you think you are?" "you've started it again?" "So what if I restrict you. I am your father. It's my decision." I am so hurt — At the missed opportunities, at the dashed goals, at the hurt he causes. I think Buro has inherited this cruel streak from Pa.
I don't remember a single time when I've been encouraged by Pa. He has never ever said a single encouraging word to me. be it sports or art when I was small. He never watched TTTT despite me performing in it for over a year. When I share my goals with him he makes faces.
He doesn't listen to music, watch movies or read books. All together he seems like an abject failure. He has given up. He is not futuristic. I don't think he even cares. Because if he did he would say something.
He could engage himself in various ways. I've given him so many ideas. Write a book, give auditions or simply get a job. I see people older than him working in my office. He doesn't need a strenuous job, just something to keep him engaged.
I'll never sit idle like him. I'll work until my dying breath. I'll encourage because I have learnt that to not be encouraged is the same as being discouraged. I'll be kind to everyone. And I will express my love and appreciation freely.
He doesn't share what he thinks. He's always been like this — a closed shell, all clammed up.
The above said I am grateful to him for showing me the art of simple living and kindness. Well, crack a joke Pa. Laugh.
May be he is clinically depressed. Writing the above makes me feel that way. Well, pop the pills you give me, is all I'd like to say to him.
But I can't be so dismissive. Pa has stood like a rock when I've gone through tough times. I must be kind. I must love more. Accept him even if he feels broken and desolate. Nurture his ageing spirit.
The glow on his face, I would like to immortalise. The love he harbours I want to fill with more love till his cup runneth over. I forgive him for the many ways in which he has put me down. I'll never bring these up ever again. When you hurt only those close to you feel the smoulders. Muwaah to Pa.
Love Doel
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