Why house and not home? Why talking about living room, bathroom, kitchen and other parts of the house rather than talking about family members? These are the questions that confuse every cell of my brain and pull me into deep insanity. Although I know the exact answer to the questions arousing in my mind, in most cases I resist to accept it, pretending it didn't really occur once in my life, that it was just a part of my wild imagination. But the pain I feel proves it to be true, it did really happen once in my life, and I am now a living testimony to that fact.
Yes, I am a living proof of how a person could be so incomplete growing up with a broken home. That person will always look for the missing part of his being caused by the selfish act of his parents thinking that they have done what's best but only for their selves. I haven't realized how painful it feels until I've grown up to my adulthood. I found out this time that I nurtured all my heartaches and carried them as I grow up. I discovered to myself that I had hidden hatreds deep within me, waiting to burst out in extreme breathtaking force.
"Father", what a sweet name to utter that pronouncing each letter causes every nerve cell of my body to shiver. A name full of honor and power which I refused to call the man whom God had used as an instrument to make my existence in this world come into reality. Deep in my heart lays steadily a deceiving lie which I stirred with truth and refused to be imaginary; I always imagine yelling to that man in extreme force, "My father is dead and he had never been like you!"
Fury encompasses my whole being whenever I see him. Forgiveness had never been clearly defined in my vocabulary because of the pain he caused us. I blamed him for everything, for all the hardships we suffered because of his irresponsible deeds. But there was no history telling that I shouted or scolded him. Whenever he's around, I simply keep that unbreakable silence in me and refuse to gaze at his face. That's my way of showing the blatant anger I have for him. I slap his face by saying no word at all.
I heard from his brother (who is my uncle) that he cried of the pain that his children had caused him, especially by his only daughter who is me. But for me, it was none other than a foolish lie because I haven't seen him shed a single teardrop. And though it may be true, I told myself, he deserves all the pain in this world to pay the valuable things he had taken from us – that is the joy of having a happy family and the elate feeling of being loved by a father.
Gone are those days and here I am now, more matured, more learned. When I started to understand that forgiveness is a part of God's will and trace back the mark of the hatred I used to have for my father, I consider my past self as a cruel merciless naive child who selfishly protected her own feelings, unknowingly killing her senses to discern that other people have feelings too. A selfish paranoid little fellow who is so afraid of going out to explore the beauty of her world and nested herself under the wings of her fury and let it rule her entire being. I felt pity for myself but that must not be the end point of my mistake. Change must be done, forgiveness must rule.
It was two years since the last time I saw my father. Although it's hard to forget for I cannot erase what's written in my family's history, at least I conquered hatred with the power of forgiveness. I still remember things of the past but I don't use to feel them now the same way I felt them before. The pain of having the missing fragments in my being may not vanish till I end my life's journey to the grave but it must serve as a lesson for me not to commit the same mistakes done by my parents especially by my father. I may not be able to erase my past but I can hold my heart to sketch my future. For this, I stand firmly to my principle: I will do my best with God's help not to commit the same errors for me not to bear a child that may become a replicate of the past me. I can't predict the future and I cannot see what is at hand, but God knows every heart, and He knows what's best for me. Let His will be done.
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