Forthnights

Just when you think things will settle down…

For the pass few weeks, I have been at my wits end trying to recover my stolen motorbike from the police, with no success. Other than that, semester just started and the assignments are starting to pile already! Also, since I’m in my final year, I have my thesis to do, due end of the month, which I am horribly behind schedule. And I somehow got involve in my college Career Fair, where 72 companies from in and out of Malaysia will be setting up booths in our College Hall. So, as you can see, it’s quite a handful.

As if that’s not enough, I got into an argument with my father in the afternoon; the first time he and I actually had one actually, and about 6 hours later, I get a call from my brother telling him my father just divorced his wife and he will be moving into my brothers place that night itself. I’d be shock beyond reason if it were not for the fact that this would be the second time, the first incidentally almost exactly a year ago. Still, it is big news.

As for argument with him, well, I guess it was more like an accumulation of discontent between the 2 of us over the pass few weeks. He had been calling here and there asking me about my motorbike. When I told him that I was still trying to get hold of it with no success, he accuses me of procrastination, and not putting priority on the matter. He said that I would always have something else to do if I did not make it my priority. Being my father, I let him have his say, after all, it was not without its merits. But chase the matter I did, despite knowing that I would be taken on a wild goose chase by the police. But then he says my lack of success was because I was not assertive enough over the police, and that I was being too nice with them about it. To quote him “You must show them that you are not a person to be messed with.” But I didn’t think showing the police whose boss would be effective in achieving my cause. Still, his accusing tone did make me unhappy. I didn’t like the fact that he chose to criticize me instead of lending me some support. Our argument came about from a letter; specifically, a letter sent by our lawyer concerning the sale of our house up north. I received the letter, requiring the signatures of my parents, and at the same time, I received a message from my father, telling me to get the letter signed and given to him. So, after receiving the letter, I waited for him to come collect it. But he didn’t, and called to ask about it. When I told him the letter was already here, he asked my why I didn’t tell him about it. I said that I assumed he knew about it, since by his own admission, he had been in regular contact with the lawyer.

Again, he goes on to tell me that I have not had my priorities straight, and that I did not put enough importance on the matter. “Tell me, is that right or not?” He asked. I replied him saying “I have nothing to say. Its pointless of me to say other wise since you have already made up you mind on what you think my priorities are.” I told him I honestly thought he would be well aware of the letter arriving. He expected me to call him when it did, and I expected him to know that it did arrive. After all, he informed me about the letter, not I him. We ended our conversation quickly and an hour later he sent me a message and I quote “Son, remember: in society you are judged by your results, not by your efforts.” For the next few hours, I could do nothing else but to think of my rebuttal to that statement, but stayed my hand from replying him.
All sorts of thoughts came to me, and I constructed a speech in my head to reply him.

So you say that we are judged by our results, not by our efforts. If that were true, and results were all that mattered, what would that make of you? What have you to show for after months and months of trying to raise a decent income? If results were all that matters, then I have to say that you are a failure yourself; for you have not been able to provide any significant income for our family let along yourself. For more than half a year now, I have been surviving on money I have earned doing part time jobs, tuition, money from my brother and a shame to admit, my girlfriend. What money have you given? What have you provided? Is it then fair to judge that you have failed your duties as a father and breadwinner for us? Despite your efforts, you have nothing to show for. Should I now judge you based on that? The verdict would be failure with a capital F. But I refuse. I refuse to believe that my father is a failure; I refuse to believe that efforts are insignificant. I have never once pointed a blaming finger on you for not giving me enough money. I try making my own way, doing jobs here and there, even if I didn’t want to in the first place. I do this because I trust that you are doing your best. After all that was what you though me when I was growing up. Long ago, as a 7 year old student giving my report card to you, you told me it matter not what place I got in class, but that i studied hard and did to the best of my abilities. I grew up believing in that, and suddenly you tell me something opposite. What happened to the father I know? Has all your troubles embittered you so much that you have let go of the values you held and passed down to your sons? All that seems to be left is a bitter, distrusting, calculative and cold shadow of what you used to be. If results were all that mattered, we would all take the shortcut road to success, to use whatever Machiavellian means available to us, and any notion of principles an integrity thrown out the window. Forgive me if I don’t subscribe to your new belief, but I still hold on to what my father though me as a kid.


But of course, I never did reply him, and all that you read here never reached his ear, nor will they ever. It was just rhetoric in a moment of anger and frustration, and I let it go.

Having had quite enough of emotional turmoil for the day, I cast all thoughts aside, and concentrated on spending time with my mother and girlfriend on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Interestingly, I never had that teenage rebellion thing going when I was growing, and never once fought with my dad, and only now at 21 do we suddenly seem to not get along.

Half way through dinner, happily devouring the KFC that I bought as a treat for myself, mother and girlfriend, I receive a call from my brother. My father had told him about our argument, and he called to mediate things and give me some advice. We went into a half hour discussing/debate about how things are. He said that my father wasn’t happy that I didn’t put family as a priority. According to him, I go out of my way for my girlfriend, sending her to and from college, but don’t even bother to call my father once in a while. I don’t know if it’s just me, but I never did feel the need or the urge to call my father and ask how he was. “That’s the point. You don’t want to wait until he dies before you regret not building a relationship with him. Come on , he’s your father.” I didn’t have anything to reply to that. Its not like I deliberately avoid calling him or talking to him. I don’t. I just find it awkward just calling him without any reason ‘just to say hi”. Yes, he is my father, but our relationship (at this point) is more formal. I talk to him about all the necessary things, but we hardly say much personal things, or rather, I don’t tell him my personal things; my feelings etc. It may be because he never asked, or I never shared. I don’t know which, but unlike my brother, I do not feel comfortable just calling him up and sharing with him; a part of me just feels that he would not understand. For that, my brother says I have not been putting enough initiative.

He told me my father confided that he finds it hard to communicate with me, that I do not share what’s going on in my life. I guess it comes as not surprise. Long ago, I took a personality test and the result really hit a chord with me. It said that I was a person, generally friendly and warm, but I tend to built invisible walls around me, thus preventing people from getting to know me ‘entirely’. In the end, my brother told me that I harbour a lot of negative feelings towards my father. “He chose to walk out of this house and return to that woman, not me. You and I both warned him against going back. Now, after leaving us, he still wants to be kept in the loop about what’s going on in our lives, and he expects us to report to him. IF you want to be around, BE AROUND, not expect me to ‘keep you in the loop.” It was just being defensive I know, but to a certain extent, that was how I felt about the matter.

The more I thought about the matter (KFC now laid uneaten), the more I had to come to terms with my own feelings. I did harbour a lot of negativity towards my own father, and I didn’t even realize it until my brother said so. When he left again to be with that woman, my brother was the strongest to react. He refused to talk to my father for a few weeks, and he made his feeling clear about it. I on the other hand tried to stay neutral about the matter. Yes, I was upset too, but I tried to stay positive. After all, why should he give their marriage another chance? I guess on some subconscious level, that feelings stayed dormant, very possibly, manifested itself through a cold shoulder towards my father. I stopped taking an interest in his life, stopped finding out. He went back there, so let him be there. We advice against it and offered him support, but he chose to go back. I respect your choice, which is to be there, not here. And that speaks more than any of your pleas for us to keep in touch more often. To say I don’t bother to keep up our relationship seems so hypocritical, since you chose to stay with a woman who tortures you rather than your sons, who received you with open arms.

Lastly, my brother told me that my father divorced (verbally) that woman and was moving out of the house. “It’s about time.” I thought. Ever since going back there, his life has only become worse, and that haggard look on his face that slowly disappeared while staying with us quickly made a return. Soon, he was back to that depressed, defeated, bitter self again. I never understand what he could possibly see in going back. He went back to be humiliated, criticized and be called useless, yet he took it all and stayed. Meeting him just now, i saw that he was tired, both emotionally and physically. He looked worn out and defeated exactly how he looked when he moved out last year, only worse. I forgot all the anger I had earlier, and felt nothing but pity for this man I called father. He used to be a shining star; he used to be a cheerful person, someone who believed in the good of people, who dedicated his life to ministry and spreading the gospel to those around him. Now, he is a middle aged man, with 3 failed marriages and while other men his age are reaping the rewards of their life’s work, my father is stuck with the prospects of unemployment. I felt sorry for him. How far you have fallen from grace. But just like I told him a year ago, I believe that in leaving that woman, the only way you can go is up. That the only direction to go after rock bottom.

I have not come to terms with just how I feel about he whole matter now. I sense that things will change again. Despite my brothers dream for the four of us to be reunited, the prospect of putting my father and mother together again is not something I welcome. I told my brother that my mother gets stressed our around my father, especially since he tends to order her around. Echoing my own concerns, my mother said she is afraid of going into a relapse if she were to stay with my father again. I have warned my brother of this, and with the coming change, I hope we will all be able to weather it. I really don’t want to see my mother in another relapse again, since we all know what that is like. But even in hoping for the best, I become weary. It sometimes seems the more you hope, the more you become disappointed.

Imagine a set of people all living in the same building. Half of them think it is a hotel, the other half think it’s a prison. Those who think it a hotel might regard it as quite intolerable, and those who thought it was a prison might decide that it was really surprisingly comfortable. So that what seems the ugly doctrine is one that comforts and strengthens you in the end. The people who try to hold an optimistic view of this world would become pessimistic: the people who hold a pretty stern view if it become optimistic

C.S. Lewis
God in the Dock


Think about it for a second

posted by Compulsive Blogger @ 10:54 pm Comments: 0