It has been a very long time since I updated my last entry. Somehow, this time I feel like I have to say something. This is my third Eid thousands of miles away from home... away from people with familiar faces. Some of my beloved friends managed to go home once in a while, if not every year. I envy their financial stability.
One thing that really struck me during the first of day of Eid was how much I missed my family, particularly my mother and my late brother. I didn't care so much about my father because I am certain he doesn't even care about the fact that I am still alive. I have been thinking about how hard it must be for my mother to not be able to celebrate this glorious day with me - I hope that she has come to terms with the fact that my brother passed over eight years ago.
My mother brought it up to my attention that I should text my father to wish him happy Eid. Instead of doing what she wanted me to do, I wept uncontrollably. It's a big lie to say that I don't miss my father at all. But the fact that after almost four years since I left home for the US and he still never asked my whereabouts somehow bothered me. Like I was not important in his life or something. Deep down, maybe... maybe he loves me. But, how would I know if he doesn't express it or demonstrate it to me. It hurts my feelings a little not knowing whether he cares about my well-being or not. Every time my mother asked my father for financial help on my behalf, my father always acted so defensively. He blamed my mother for allowing me to pursue my degree abroad instead of locally.
The thing that I never understand about my father is the fact that he does not seem to be proud of my achievements. I, his son, managed to study in a foreign country with a full scholarship from the Malaysian government. Not only that, after I graduated from my undergraduate institution, I received a full scholarship/assistantship from Indiana University-Purdue University, Indianapolis, to continue my education in a Ph.D program. Not a lot of people, let alone Malaysians who would receive this kind of opportunity. Till this day, I am still waiting for a congratulation from my father.
All throughout my life, I long for the love and approval of a fatherly figure. My father left when I barely turned 6 and a half years old. He came to visit occasionally, but there was no warmth in his presence. Sometimes I wonder, am I his biological son, his own flesh and blood? If so, why does I resent his presence or the thought of contacting him? Ever since I was in elementary school, I worked really hard to be on top of my game. I thought to myself that if I worked really hard and managed to bring back recognitions, my father would start to love me again. Unfortunately, I was wrong, big time. He never showed any signs of compassion or care about what I do. Not even curious about my life. To him, I am not important, at least actions speak louder than words. Why can't my father be like any other fathers in the world? I don't ask for a lot, just simply show me that I, too, matter in his life.
Some people get really antsy about me resenting and showing my disapproval of my father's behaviors. But, if you walk the same path I have gone through, you too, would understand my point of view. My devotion and reverence for my father has long been gone, unfortunately. I just cannot drag myself anymore. My father doesn't even notice what I've done to prove myself to him.
People ask me sometimes about the prospect of me being a father, to which I responded, no. I just could not picture myself doing it. My father did not know better when he brought me to this world that the responsibility of a father does not end with procreation. And that probably was the reason why he was such a ruthless, reckless, and hopeless father to begin with. If only he knew that a father's responsibilities include showing love to the children, attending to their needs, and supporting the children's endeavors, he would not dare to think about having more children. With all this anger I have, I digress. I know that I cannot be a good father to my children, and therefore I am avoiding the role all together. I am not willing to see my children's wellness being compromised from the lack of fatherly figure in their lives.
If my father managed to ruin the life of my brother and me, I am choosing to release myself and my prospective children from that burden. I know that I would not be happy while allowing my children to suffer.
To my father, thank you! Thank you for not being there when I needed you the most. Thank you for not comforting or touching me as I was growing up. Thank you for showing up but never was present in everything I do. For all of this, I grew up to be a strong lad, physically and mentally and psychologically. I am in the work of progress to show to people that although I grew up without a responsible father, I still manage to bounce back and thrive. You, my beloved father, can just walk out the door and constantly being irrelevant. I suppose that is what you do best anyway!
I hope everyone who is reading this entry enjoys your time with your family and friends. Enjoy each other's presence, because you never know what the future brings.
XOXO,
Fazuan
