How fathers, expressed their love for their young, differently, than the mothers…translated…
As I got older, I'd finally understood the love my father showed towards, me.
When I married, it was at the time of the government registration of it, I'd never held any expectations of being a bride, decided to only register, no wedding. I was the very first kid who married in the family, although my father didn't want to marry me off so simplistically, but, he'd still, respected my choice, and only gave a lowest limit that he had for the expectations of what my matrimony would have: at least, get a wedding photo, because I'm still, the kid of the family who'd loved smiling, the most.
When I was younger, my parents were still young, both were quite, hotheaded, they'd fought a lot. As a girl, it was easier for me to side with my mother, to take her perspective, and so, I'd often, felt uneven for her, and carried that grudge toward my father. And, in my teens, the relationship with my father worsened, every time he wanted to set me straight, I'd, always, used even more upsetting language toward him.
And yet, with entering into grad school, and the workforce, I'd slowly found, that to be like my father, working in his career, and finishing his degree at the same time, he must've been under a ton of pressures. Although my father didn't seem to be working as hard as my mother, but he was psychologically pressured, shouldering the household economics, and had to mediate between the relatives. I'd started, gaining an understanding of where he'd, come from, and sometimes, his, "lacking", were caused by too much that he had on his plate.
a father's love...photo from online
As I had my child, every time I'd, paid attention to the lighting when my child was doodling. I'd recalled how my father used to grill me for not turning on my desk lamp when I worked on my assignments, he'd worried that my eye sight would, deteriorate; when I played with my son, I'd, recalled how my father took time away from work, to accompany me as I learned to ride a two-wheeler; when I helped my son with his homework, I'd recalled how my own father had, patiently, taught me to solve the math problems I couldn't get; when I was in the parent-teacher conferences, I'd recalled how my father was the head of the parents of the class.
I'd once, mistaken that my father didn't do enough household chores, that he'd rarely, spoken to us, that he didn't care enough. Later I'd come to understand, this only meant, that my father and my mother use different ways to show that they cared. For the sake of our education, my father moved into the city, weathered through the pains of leaving his home, for the sake of a better future for us; he'd kept an eye on safety, every time we moved to a new place, he'd, clearly, examined all the places that might proven dangerous for us. He took out the loans, but hoping that his young could be well-ventured, saved up all he earned, taken us everywhere to travel…………
There'd been the ancient verses, texts that commended the grand love of the mother, and most of the children, attached to their mothers more, and yet, maybe, the fathers, showed their love, in an alternative, form to us. Sometimes, I'd watched my husband expressing his love to our son, I'd recalled how my father loved us, with his actions, and I'm filled with, gratitude.
So, this is the differences of expression of love to the children, and it wasn't until this woman became a mom, she'd started, to understand, that her father uses a different way of showing love to her and her sibling, that's not the same as her mother's, expressions of love toward them.
No comments:
Post a Comment