Musings & Threads: On Life
In the unparalleled existence that we call life, our senses are bombarded with more than we can process. So, our life becomes defined by what we choose to absorb, what we choose to remember. A perfect example for me is my father. I can choose to see the man who would call me to tell me he loved me, who would get teary when he talked to me, who attended every event for all of his six children, who bragged about us behind our backs, who took care of us after he died, who could be reassuring in the rare occasions when I asked for it. Or, I could view him as my relentless critic, criticizing my appearance, my intellect, my grades, my health, my life, my choices, everything I did when I was growing up. My father was both of those people, and probably a lot more, children’s visions are so skewed. Yet, I find myself seeing my father as the relentless critic, it is my choice; and it is not fair to him. I think that there is an imprint when we are young, and the most powerful imprint is words; words that directly connect to our core, and unfortunately my father was lacking in that area. My goal is to remember the good man that was my father, because it is my choice.