I had a father once who made me smile. His strength and perseverance only matched by his style. I had a father who would argue with me and never agree. We butted heads severely, our relationship constant agony. I had a father who made my life a living hell. The rules, the work, the need to be perfect broke my soul, hatred only left to tell.
Now that I am older I watch my children grow. The lessons my father taught show me the direction to go. I push them, teach them, give them laws. Make them better so that they too can reach the stars. The hatred and heartache I felt whilst growing up, has mellowed down and reconciled. I now don’t need to drink from my bitter cup. No more resentment, fear, tiredness of doing wrong. I watch my children grow and sing the same song.
Some lessons I teach differently, some require the fires of hell. But my understanding of my father is so different now, I can’t tell – what was wrong with him pushing me? Why did I fight so much? If I had taken the time to listen, I guess now we wouldn’t be so out of touch. I miss him sometimes then remember his lesson on useless regrets. “Move forward, don’t look back. Fear nothing and always see positives for solutions to remain!”