The day I was notified of my father's stroke, brought the most unforeseen emotions that you'd expect from a daughter. There I was standing in disbelief as I was talking to this man I havent seen in almost two years. Although I was praying that he would make it through this difficult time, I couldn't help but think of the time we wasted being upset than getting to know each other.
I chose to separate myself from him because I was unable to accept a father that I thought was inconsistent. Our relationship is not the best because I felt the need to get this "confession of guilt" or "apology" that I realized he's unobligated to give. I met my dad at age nine, that day we sat across from one another and stared at each others features as if we were strangers. I never thought to part my lips to ask "Where have you been? or Why did you leave my mother with the responsibilities in raising me? " My mother raised me to show respect regardless of circumstances. Therefore, my mind drew a blank because instead of questioning his role as a father. I was excited to finally have something I wanted more than anything materialistic, a relationship with my father.
After the first encounter, he made a promise he'd take me "back to school shopping" (which I really didn't care for, I just couldn't wait to experience hanging around my dad). As my mother called many times that day, I sat on the couch waiting for my dad to pick me up and their I was five hours later finally realizing the relationship with my father that I wanted, was my illusion that I refused to accept.
Sometimes we expect things from people who are incapable of giving things that are simple as love, loyalty or encouragement. Needless to say, I didn't meet my father again until I was nineteen and in college. This was also the first time meeting my brother who was twenty-nine and my sister who was eighteen. I felt embarrassed, because I took the responsibility of calling them and telling them that I was their sister. Even now, there is a lack communication between us.
I created my expectations on what I expected from others, which is far-fetched from reality. When I went to visit my father recently, I realize that all the issues I had with him meant nothing, my feelings wouldn't matter and I had to let it go. My only concern was about his health and had to forgive him regardless of my pain. Everything is not about you, when you began to realize that forgiveness is easier than you think. I was able to support this man I barely knew, who wasn't able to support me and that is "The Art of Forgiveness".
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