FATHER FIGURE

.....well,this post has a bit of grammatical errors and may not be as perfect as it should be,but here goes....

When I was very little,

I liked to think of my father as the sole protector-

Of himself,and fundamentally,his family.

I believed he was the "hulk"of the household [chuckles],

Despite his stature,of course..

I thought he would always be around,to readily protect us in the face of any danger.

I trusted that he'd always encourage me to succeed in all my endeavours.

To me,he was the perfect person to give me all I needed and wanted.

I even arrived at the conclusion that men-fathers in particular-shouldn't suffer any infirmities,grow old,nor die...All because of that very responsibility I believe they hold...the responsibility to ensure that they keep their families happy and safe.

It was a picture perfect imagination-all roses and bunnies.

(Well,before I go on,I must say that my father and I weren't much emotionally in sync-still aren't...and I still love him all the same <3)

However,he's always been an important figure in my life.

I thought he'd always...and I really mean always...be there to help with my homework,

To pick me up from school,

Take me out for ice cream,

Accompany me on evening walks and the like.

Unfortunately,that bliss vanished,when one day (guess I was 7yrs old by then) he fell ill.

That day,he didn't pick me up from school and it was strange.

My mum picked me up instead.

On our way home,I cried and complained about my dad not showing up.

Mum didn't respond to my rants.

So we drove home in silence.

As soon as we got home,I followed my mum to her room

And there...there I saw him...lay on his bed.

Looking frail and weak,

Mouth bent to the other side of his face.

I was astonished...speechless.

He was struck by a partial stroke

I said "hello",but he didn't respond.

I smiled but he didn't return my smile.

Tears welled up in my eyes,

As I realised that the tower so strong to protect me wasn't as strong after all.

It was a bitter pill to swallow...so hard to accept.

It dawned on me that for a while,he'd not take me for our usual silent walks.

He lay in a hospital bed,for months that seemed like forever to me,

So hopeless...so sad.

I really thought men were not cut out for sickness or any weakness.

I was very distraught.

'Twas only after he had fully recuperated (Thank God) that he explained to me,with that smile he always wore,that fathers and all men alike,are human too.

They aren't heros with some supernatural powers.

They aren't immortal.

Tragedy befalls them just as well.

I learned they,like any human on earth,do possess certain weaknesses.

They grow old and weary.

They get sad'

They cry,

And inevitably,there's a point in their lives that they face every human's demise-death!

I discovered,through life's journey,that they also break promises.

They are imperfect.

They aren't emotionless figurines like the toys we stack on our shelves.

They have feelings...they experience pain,anguish...they feel love and hate too.

Now I understand that even though he vows to guide me,

He'll still let me walk some dire roads on my own,

And that despite our differences,he loves me dearly and wants the best for me.

So really,the father figure does have his own shortcomings.

Even as he seems to be that fortress that'll never collapse,

He'll err and he'll stumble...