2012 Febrero 04 0400
"Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope." B. Cosby
Like the wise men say, you don't earn your mother's love as it comes given. But you do your father's. Father and son relationships are weird. As a male you're bound to copy him, emulate, idolize. But at the same time compete with him, as it is naturally masculine to "be your own man." To be solitary and independent. It's a combination of both the will to please and the male pride to show him you are better than either what he wanted you to be or he himself.
Growing up I felt like my father wanted me to be the person he never was. I represent the tip of the spear that would carry the rest of my family in the American dream. My father is a proud man. Despite his humble status as a college dropout starting from zero since moving abroad, he never flinched at his responsibility. Proud and principled; his work ethic is infallible. Those are huge shoes to fill. I was going to be an example to my brothers. I had to be the good boy. I had to be smart one. I had to make a name for us. I was going to do the things he couldn't because of route in life he took. I felt like in comparison to my younger siblings, I carried more responsibility. Things that they would get a slap on the wrist for, I'd get a guilty wringing. He wanted me to be assertive, a leader, a model.
I never were any of those things. I shouldn't have been the first born for I was more easy going and laid back. I hated responsibility and to be the first one to jump without hesitation. I'd rather cower than challenge, compromise than take it all.
Last week I called my folks to wish him a happy birthday. He's almost there, the big five-o. The last few years my father changed his demeanor towards fatherhood. When before he demanded, he now suggests. When before he preached, he now discussed with me things in life as a man to another.
As we were catching up, I didn't expect that he'd apologize to me about how he raised me. He said he feels bad that he might have been too hard on me. That he thinks I carry sentiments of heavy heart towards him and that makes me unhappy. But that at the same time doesn't regret it, seeing how I turned out. I told him I don't blame him. And that I was thankful I didn't turn out like bastard as some. You gotta count things you have and not things you don't; like others who wish their father was present or cared. Despite many hours of disciplining and harsh exchange of words, of feeling guilty for getting a B, for trying to pretend I didn't' want to be like other children, at least I had a father who had great intentions every step of the way.
I think my drive are his words. I'm a scared man inside that I know. But I have a tough shell because I grew up not accepting mediocrity and wanting more. Ambition. The only thing forcing me to do things no one would think I would do is the fear and the guilt of failing him and myself.
It's a great feeling when your father sees you as a man. It's like graduating in life. Because despite the eternal disappointment I feel for myself subconsciously, seemingly unable to be better than I should be, somehow I'm starting to think someone is actually thinking I'm worthwhile as an adult enough to talk to me as one. As an equal. And of all people it's the one person that all sons wish it'd be so: their father.
Happy birthday pops.
McLovin, out.
