I have a confession. A one that changed my life and that happily ruined all familial melancholy of my existence.
I am still questioning my decision of saying it out loud, because I never said it loud. I never told or prepared myself for a moment like this. Maybe because I had been wired, or made myself comfortable with the possibility of never coming across such a moment. Because he, resonates tragedy. Never a bad man, but fallen by his own hamartia. I guess, there are times you ignore the smaller disasters and the damage they have done, so you can embrace the beginning, end brings along with it.
You pass decades of childhood, living in an absence, you construct that absence as a void, and the choice of a violent wail. Its natural only, to blame your difficulties and partialities on an absence. But a moment comes, when you simply rise above it. And you see.
He is broken and very fragile, if I ever say this to him, he will fall apart. Either happy or sad, he is living in an hallucination and in it there is a happy family which has always loved him and his mistress. Do I want to agree to that, maybe. Nothing is achieved by clinging onto an already weak string. So, I have aligned myself to his hallucination and consciously agreed to a pretense of his love. I keep myself happy, by thinking that if this hallucination can last a lifetime then I will be happy to see my children playing with him, falling in love with him, thinking of how he too loved me so.
So, here goes the confession:
I love my father.
I am still questioning my decision of saying it out loud, because I never said it loud. I never told or prepared myself for a moment like this. Maybe because I had been wired, or made myself comfortable with the possibility of never coming across such a moment. Because he, resonates tragedy. Never a bad man, but fallen by his own hamartia. I guess, there are times you ignore the smaller disasters and the damage they have done, so you can embrace the beginning, end brings along with it.
You pass decades of childhood, living in an absence, you construct that absence as a void, and the choice of a violent wail. Its natural only, to blame your difficulties and partialities on an absence. But a moment comes, when you simply rise above it. And you see.
He is broken and very fragile, if I ever say this to him, he will fall apart. Either happy or sad, he is living in an hallucination and in it there is a happy family which has always loved him and his mistress. Do I want to agree to that, maybe. Nothing is achieved by clinging onto an already weak string. So, I have aligned myself to his hallucination and consciously agreed to a pretense of his love. I keep myself happy, by thinking that if this hallucination can last a lifetime then I will be happy to see my children playing with him, falling in love with him, thinking of how he too loved me so.
So, here goes the confession:
I love my father.
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