Sunday, June 17, 2012

I hate my Father

A portrait of my father from a family painting that hangs in our living room. 

There’s always that discomfort during this time of the year when everyone brags about how their father is the best in the world. I cannot say that I’m envious or anywhere near that, that’s why the use of the word ‘discomfort. ‘I could pretend, imagine, but that would be ridiculous. 

There is no reason that I should celebrate any minute of what the world claims now as “Father’s Day.” If by any chance it becomes something as huge as Christmas, or the fourth of July in America, I could go for my uncles, my cousins and of course my very own mother, who for many years stood at the same ground my father should’ve had. Should my father ask me for any form of greeting, say the day comes when I’d wake up, walk downstairs and would find him sitting on a couch in our living room, I cannot for the love of God, greet him a “Happy Father’s Day.” Why should I? There’s not a minute of happy having him as a father, anyway. 

The thing is if almost the entire twenty five years of your existence were spent without your father, you tend to pose so many questions. I couldn’t understand, even now at my age and learning, why I had to endure all those years without him. I couldn’t understand why he can’t admit to us that he knocked off some chick somewhere within that waterhole that is Middle East and I have some bastard brother or brothers and sisters elsewhere. I couldn’t understand why my mother should endure all the pains of having me as a son while he drinks vodka in some fancy bar or sit in the middle of some rowdy cockpit. 

Those I could never understand. I was always incomplete, something I suspect my mother blames herself for, which is hard to imagine why she should. With this always comes the thought of breaking my father’s neck with my own hands. But somehow, something tells me that whenever I say these things within my mother’s earshot, it’s just breaking her heart even more. 

The more insulting part of this is the money that he sends. To say that I don’t need them would be more insulting. I need them and I had them used for my education, food, clothing, even leisure. Those Boracay trips, this computer I’m using now, even my beloved leather boots, all purchased by those blood money. At some point, I realized he’s not doing it because I am his son and that I deserve some fancy for being so. Truth is he’s buying me off. He’s buying my innocence, my obedience and my silence. 

Whenever I pass that family along Sgt. Esguerra, that family of six who shares a single mattress under a roofless night, I always get a pinch of envy watching them. There’s a blackened casserole with cooked rice in it, standing on three blocks of rock where a fire sure was blazing a while ago. One kid is naked waist down running along the sidewalk while the other swallows a handful of rice beside the open casserole. The mother watches slouching on the mattress in her oversized duster. The father stands in a distance, smoking, gazing aimlessly somewhere far. 

In all honesty, I’d rather live a life like them than the miserable life I lived with an absentee father. I’d swallow “tuyo” with my bear hands even if it means an itching around my mouth after. So long as I can see my father standing there in the midst of our poverty telling me everything is going to be fine despite knowing it will never be. So long as we’re together, so long as I know he’s fighting for me, for us, dreaming for me while being proud of the hurdles I championed. 

I hate my father. But I hate myself even more for hoping, praying that one day he’ll come to me and that I will live a life with a father, something that was denied of me for almost twenty five years already. I hate myself because I still imagine a time when I’d wake up in the morning, walk downstairs and I would find him sitting on our couch in our living room. That we could still watch basketball together, a game we both love, fly to Los Angeles and watch the Lakers together and talk about the game afterwards. 

I know it’s nearing impossible. I cannot change what happened and I know the world would never conspire even if I pray for it nightly. But forgive me, somehow, there’s comfort within such thoughts; a rest while I continue and force myself to hate my father even more. 

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old, but his blood runs through my instrument and the song is in my soul.

14 reaction(s):

Bino said...

I understand what you feel about ur father. But i still pray that one day you'll be able to forgive him. Be strong my friend

jonathan said...

I feel the same with my dad but I never made it a hindrance in my life to mope, be bitter, and hate him. Instead, I made them as my building blocks to live a life of fairness and love.

A well-written entry!

rudeboy said...

I think it's normal to resent our fathers at a certain point in our lives, DB.

We come into our own, and sometimes, the Old King is threatened by the ascendance of his own successor. Or, in your case, it becomes plain to see that the Emperor has no clothes, that all the finery was an illusion borne out of fear.

You're entitled to say you hate your father, and mean it. Because I hated my own, once upon a time, with the burning passion of a thousand suns.

But life is a strange journey, and if both of you last long enough, sooner or later your stance may soften.

They may have been as gods to us when we were children, but our fathers, like ourselves, are but human.

sin at work said...

awwwwwwwwww! i get what you feel... even I would be angry and would feel uncomfortable with the idea of a "fathers day" if i'm gonna have a dad like that. :(

but consider this: yung ibang mga tatay na nakakakita na ng ibang babae sa ibang bansa, e yung iba tila bigla nalang nawawala. ni walang padala, o sabi sabi kung nasaan sila. so i guess you're "a bit luckier" than those.

rudeboy said: "They may have been as gods to us when we were children, but our fathers, like ourselves, are but human."

i like that a lot. i used to look up to my dad because mom would say a lot of good things about him. (actually, i still do after realizing a lot of things. all of it were true after all.) i mean even i would think that i have a great father: he doesn't drink (only on reunions), doesn't smoke, has no other woman, hardworking... but things changed when he got lazy at work (what i thought then) and resigned eventually. then he went back here and worked for a year or so, and then resigned again. i was so angry at him for leaving everything to my mom, along with his accusations that mom was spending the money he sends on different things (or another man) instead of saving them up. (na nakikita ko naman kung saan napupunta talaga, which fueled my anger even more)

i thought sayang ang talino't galing n'ya. he was a very wise man. my relatives, and even our tenants noticed that. he knows a lot of things and has sensible comments on a lot of topics, which i envy him for and wish that I too would have that kind of intelligence.

not only that. he's full of negativity. no family dinner would pass without him sharing a bit of this negativity that he has in him. no more wine needed to make your blood race. (an advantage? hahaha)

then later on after YEARS of being with him na may halong inis, tampo, disappointment and all other emotions, i soon realized and felt why he was like that. he was also human. napagod din s'ya. he worked his ass off, did a lot of great projects, but in the end didn't get those promotions that he really deserved because it was instead given to those bastards who did nothing much but kiss other people's asses and have regular night-outs with the bosses.

plus he had so much pent-up anger on his own family. and all other kinds of experiences. very depressing.

now i do understand him, and feel sorry for everything he has experienced, including those that I have done to him.

oh well this is getting a bit too long. would just like you to know that you're not alone.

Nate said...

it's nice to know that you hope like a child.. :) --- "But I hate myself even more for hoping, praying that one day he’ll come to me and that I will live a life with a father, something that was denied of me for almost twenty five years already."

Désolé Boy said...

Bino - Time only knows my friend.
Jonathan - Ahh, that's the trick right? In this case, we can never control how our father wants to become an asshole of himself but we can always choose the way to react on it. Good point.
Rudeboy - I guess you're right. I remember the night I graduated from college. He went to my room and I pretended to be sleeping. I was shocked because he kissed me and then he left. Up to now it's still baffling to me. But I guess that shows his human side. Oh well, we'll see who will outlast who. Hehe.
Sin at Work - Wow. First of all thank you for taking the time to contribute your thoughts. You know what, most of my friends came to me because we have parallel storylines regarding our respective father. Thanks again, my friend.
Kuya Nate - I always think like a child, I'd like to believe in that :)

Xander said...

i respect and understand how you feel about your father my friend. Everything will be fine and you will have that will have that father-son relationship.

shenanigans said...

i can soooo relate to this pero I tend not to care na lang 19 years he didn't care so ill do the same. :)

Little Nikki said...

you know, this post is really something that i can relate too. my dad left us when i still young and gaps just grew between us. gaps that were filled with something vile and ugly. i don't think i'll be able to clear it out just now, and what's appalling is how much it hurts. i stopped caring really, but i still hope for something to change.

i don't really hate my father, i just grew very indifferent from him.

sin at work said...

It's nice that most of your friends know how you feel, and that you're able to talk about it with them.

thanks, too. and sorry napahaba. haha! :D as soon as i started typing eh tuloy-tuloy na s'ya. hanggang samahabai na pala. haha! :D

have a great week!

Mac Callister said...

I thought im the only person who hates his father...i will never appreciate my father, till now, parang wala lang kapag nagkikita kami.

There are wounds that are too deep...

KikomaxXx said...

cheer up boss.. kung maging tatay ka man sana maging gabay ito...

Anonymous said...

i hate my dad too of what he did to my mom as in disloyalty ..never respcted her and ruined the family for nothng..its soo pathetic to watch mom just be so werid and actualy gone and i cant beliv she still lives with that person..i have a great dislike for my father as he is useless is not worthy of respct of .i feel so uncomfortble around him .evn wen hes near me i feel disgusted..i dont knw wen wil this feelin get over bcoz its starting to bcome unberable..i dont like him at all..hes not a good person..he is ingenuine..crappy and just not worth being calld a father..

Anonymous said...

Dear Mr./Ms.:

My wife and I would like you to sell/advertise our book "Overcoming the Afflictions of the Fatherless" in your book stores, radio show, or at your next Christian event. If you sell the books at the price printed on the cover, we will sell them to you at 10 for $70.00 as a donation.

This 96 page paper back book (glossy cover) exposes the afflictions of the fatherless and depicts the role of the passive father in the home. This book also serves as an end-time tool in the spirit of Elijah regarding reconciliation of the fatherless spiritually and naturally with Godly repentance. It will inspire and challenge the Body of Christ to visit the fatherless in their afflictions, encourage the unsaved to accept Christ and exhort current fathers to actively fulfill their role in which God intended.

The purpose of this book is to expose the attacks of the enemy over the fatherless and to inform the body of Christ of the importance of ministering to the fatherless in their afflictions. I want each individual who reads this book to know that God is the greatest Father you could ever have, He has provided deliverance through salvation. His grace is sufficient to sustain us through any test or trial that may come our way.

Please help us in spreading this Christian message to the fatherless in the jails, streets or in the pews...


Robert and Katrina Johnson


Copyright © 2010 Désolé Boy | Blogger Templates by Splashy Templates | Free PSD Design by Amuki