The last tear for my father fell today.
None of my heart will go to this man anymore.
I've tried for more than a decade to work things out between us. Mum always told me not to try talking sense to him, not to hope that I can change him. She knows him best, she would say. "He can't change. You can't reason with a child. You are no hero, don't think you can do anything about him. I've tried for years and I have long given up because I know what he is capable of. Just leave it to God."
There came that point when I started questioning the source of authority and love that brought me up. Could she be wrong? Is he that hopeless and unchangeable as Mum claims? Is he that unreasonable? I tried. I really did. Sometimes, it seemed I broke through and things improved, communication channels opened. Then in the middle of good times, just when I begin to feel that I have a father, he erupts, spewing threats and violence. And I wonder.
Once all things are well again, the cycle starts. We build things up again and they go up in flames several months later.
I am 21 now. I have been fighting with him since my eyes were opened to the injustice plaguing my household. That man sleeps with and hurts dozens of women and gambles till he is a bankrupt -- but the worst of his sins is his pride. He bullies and uses my mother because he can't get to me. If I say something unpleasing to his ears, she gets the brunt of it. She'll come to me the next day, scold me, coax me and at the end of the day, I'll have to apologise to that animal. Put on on act. Pretend to take in all that he says. Pretend that I am indeed that rude, unfilial daughter whom the church has not been able to change. Yes, he blames the church too. Anything.
I should be jaded now. That is my only self-defense. As long as I continue to hope, I will keep trying to talk with him -- and that often means disagreeing with him, which he sees as disrespect and the lack of filial piety no matter how well-intentioned and polite I am. So I cannot afford to bear hope that anything will change. Not on earth anyway. Not by my own strength. I have to swallow my own pride and leave it to God. For the sake of my mother, for the sake of our sanity and safety.
I am defenseless; I am powerless against this demon. I was a fool to think I could turn things around.
None of my heart will go to this man anymore.
I've tried for more than a decade to work things out between us. Mum always told me not to try talking sense to him, not to hope that I can change him. She knows him best, she would say. "He can't change. You can't reason with a child. You are no hero, don't think you can do anything about him. I've tried for years and I have long given up because I know what he is capable of. Just leave it to God."
There came that point when I started questioning the source of authority and love that brought me up. Could she be wrong? Is he that hopeless and unchangeable as Mum claims? Is he that unreasonable? I tried. I really did. Sometimes, it seemed I broke through and things improved, communication channels opened. Then in the middle of good times, just when I begin to feel that I have a father, he erupts, spewing threats and violence. And I wonder.
Once all things are well again, the cycle starts. We build things up again and they go up in flames several months later.
I am 21 now. I have been fighting with him since my eyes were opened to the injustice plaguing my household. That man sleeps with and hurts dozens of women and gambles till he is a bankrupt -- but the worst of his sins is his pride. He bullies and uses my mother because he can't get to me. If I say something unpleasing to his ears, she gets the brunt of it. She'll come to me the next day, scold me, coax me and at the end of the day, I'll have to apologise to that animal. Put on on act. Pretend to take in all that he says. Pretend that I am indeed that rude, unfilial daughter whom the church has not been able to change. Yes, he blames the church too. Anything.
I should be jaded now. That is my only self-defense. As long as I continue to hope, I will keep trying to talk with him -- and that often means disagreeing with him, which he sees as disrespect and the lack of filial piety no matter how well-intentioned and polite I am. So I cannot afford to bear hope that anything will change. Not on earth anyway. Not by my own strength. I have to swallow my own pride and leave it to God. For the sake of my mother, for the sake of our sanity and safety.
I am defenseless; I am powerless against this demon. I was a fool to think I could turn things around.
I am coming to accept this. Gradually.
No space for hope, besides that in God. Honour your parents. I suppose that, in my case, means submitting. By submitting to this earthly demon and submission to the Creator, I can conquer the Devil and whoever he places in my life.
There is still hurt, spite and anger at the injustice in me as I write this out. I am human as much as I am Christian. I don't deny these feelings. Give me time, give me grace and they will fade.
1 comment:
I simply take it as he being a basketcase who refuses to be put away. Sad to say, the more I suck it in and move on, the more I can't wait for him to disappear. I refuse to give in to him and let him think he won the last battle of emotional-religious blackmail. I'm not going to be one of those opinionless, spineless girls on those ridiculous Chinese dramas. Why should I practice filial piety to one whom I don't regard to be a man/father?
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