If someone had told me that I would feel this way, say, 5 or 10 years ago, I would have snorted and told them to go wrestle something. See, I’ve never been a Daddy’s girl. I was more of a Mom’s kid. I went to Mom every, and I mean EVERY time I needed someone. Even when I knew that only Dad could solve my problem, I went to Mom and asked her to ask Dad rather than asked him myself.
I used to feel that Dad favors my sister over me. Dad was never as strict with my sister, and he spoiled her with gifts. Like most teenagers, it was a very serious problem for me, so I began this you-are-not-fair campaign. It wasn’t until recently that I realize that different kids need different treatment. My sister was never as rebellious as me, maybe that’s why Dad felt the need to discipline me more.
My Dad believed that I’m destined for great things. Big surprise. What fathers do not? He had high expectations of what I would become, and spent so much time talking about it. During my college years, I avoided his phone calls on purpose just because I didn’t want to talk about his future plans. There were times when I walked away from him when it looked like he was about to start talking about schools or jobs. We used to fight a lot because I couldn’t handle the pressure. I felt that he was so stubborn, but then again so was I. I thought he was spoiling himself of these unrealistic dreams, but guess what, it’s in his gene and he passed those traits to me. Now I know that we’re too much alike. I mean, why else did we butt heads so much?
Now I’m kind of obsessed with Dad. I finally know how it feels when people say “My father is the best in the whole wide world.” My heart burst with pride whenever I talk about Dad. I miss him all the time and I know for a fact that I call him more than he calls me. It’s funny to think about how stormy the relationships used to be.
I’ve spent almost half of my life far from my parents. I guess, the absence had made my heart grew fonder. I moved to a different continent two years ago and I still miss my father every single day. He is the reason why I know I’ll eventually move back to Aceh. I have guilt being far for him because what if my father dies prematurely and I’ve missed out on his last years? I know it sounds gloomy but I think it’s something a lot of people feel, especially as I see my father gets older.
I’m going home next month, and I can’t wait to be in my father’s home and smell his presence and pluck his gray hairs (oh yes we both love this)…well, maybe butt our heads a little. But what the hell, he’s my father and if there’s someone I can tolerate for prying into my life so much, it should have been him. Because he’s my father, and I love him. Very very much.