According to my aunt, my dad is in the hospital. A father i haven’t acknowledged for more than fifteen years. There was no need to, as after the divorced, we all parted our ways, me, and my elder brother followed my mum, and my dad went on his own, and started another family.
It’s really no big deal, I think I have been lying to myself all these years, until to think that it’s alright having no contact with your biological father. Perhaps it does, and my defense and survival mechanism made short term and shallow justifications to decide that it is OK. Perhaps it is not.
As i start to find out early this year, when my dad contacted my aunt and told him that he wanted to see us (as in me and my elder brother, my dad would have better luck with me than my brother, whom himself is a class act altogether.)
I delayed the meet up and procrastinated. Justifying again shallowly that since we’ve not met for that long a period of time, what difference does it makes now? Not knowing that this burden of truth is slowly gnawing away my psyche. I have my dark moods now and then, and at times i cannot make sense of their abruptness. I have my unexplained fears and terribly superficial insecurities which all my wisdom and intelligence cannot comprehend.
It dawned to me that this might make sense of it all. The Past that i’ve been trying in vain to avoid is slowly but surely catching up. Now that he is in the hospital, there is no more procrastination left, no more excuses, no more reasons. I simply have to see him now and reconcile with an unreconcilable past.
Despite of the fact that he wasn’t there for the better part of my formative year, I simply cannot ignore my moral duty to see him. He is after all my dad, for better or worse. For a karmic reasons, I would want my sons to acknowledge me as well when i am frail, as my dad is right now. I refuse to carry his failure as a father with me and make my kids bear what my dad made me bear.
Notwithstanding his failure, I cannot fail as a son any more, tomorrow I will go to the hospital to see him, and face my past. I cannot help feel naked and ill prepared to deal with the past, but in dealing with it will allow me to move away from my dark past and perhaps allow a better, wiser me to bloom.