Negative Inspiration

I dare you to figure me out!

Hello readers!  If you are a regular visitor in my site I guess you’ve already read that line. It might sound like a challenge but it’s more than that to me. Actually, reality just hit me now. It’s not your duty to discern me- my thoughts, fears, aspirations, joys, and pains. It’s my solitary task to discover and rediscover that veiled truths in me.

And today I shall take the first few steps.

I once cursed my father. You heard it right. But before you condemn me, please take a listen first.

Twenty two years ago, I was six years old then, I could copiously remember what kind of life we had. We resided in the small barrio of Naujan, the biggest town in the province consisting of roughly 70 barangays. To make a living, dwellers had to plow their fields and plant various crops such as corn, rice and fruit-bearing trees.

Life was not easy then, my father was a typical farmer, a tenant of a little four-hectare parcel. And my mother, a plain housewife busying herself in the different household chores and other farming duties which was unusual for a woman of her age. I salute my mom for doing manly tasks beyond her strength just to abridge the situation.   Confronted with the nasty realities of life, making both ends meet was nearly possible.

Perhaps you’ve read this in my post “Childhood’s Rumination”. But I skipped something. No! I intentionally avoided it.

So here I am staring nervously in front of my computer thinking if I can muster narrating this story. Breathe in…Breathe out…Here it goes.

I had a father, a hardworking and responsible man, but not sweet and loving compared to some men I’ve known.  He was different. My mom had been a battered wife, and we, his children,had been physically and emotionally battered as well.

I could still remember every time we eat our meals. He would often chide me for not eating fast at his own pace. Needless to say, he’d shout at me on top of his voice telling me to put my food onto my mouth, ears and eyes so I could finish them instantly. And that made me lethargic and despondent.

One sizzling summer, our family went to the beach just to escape from the strenuous works of the homestead. I was truly overjoyed that I bolted from his reproaches even for a day. He had a good mood perhaps. Unfortunately, we went home early because of the unfriendly weather so my father just continued his favorite drink at home. Before he emptied another glass, he called my attention to get his cigarettes upstairs and look after the salted fish he was cooking in the kitchen.

I searched for it as fast I could but the problem was, I couldn’t find his cigarettes everywhere. It took me an hour to finally locate it under my parents’ bed. So I went down hastily to hand it to him. But I was late, he was too furious as he took the cigarette from me. Oh my god! The salted fish was left unattended and it turned to black. He grumpily blamed me for what happened and asked me to stay out of the house. So I went out.

It was nearly 8 o’clock then and I was patiently waiting if they would ask me to come in. But no one did. No one cared. Tragically, the rain started to pour as thunder and lightning frightened me. I hid in the foul-smelling and tapered doghouse adjacent to my neighbor’s house. For once, I experienced to be a hound and it wasn’t funny. In that very moment, I rebuked and cursed him in my mind. I even pronounced his death in the rain because of too much wrath in my heart.

Yes! I was once a bad daughter.

However, when he died a little over fifteen years ago, I learned to forgive him from all the pains that he had inflicted to our family. I learned to forgive myself too.

As I write this confession, I realized how much he loved me. He had his identifiable way of showing it but he did love me.

During meals, he trained me to eat fast so I could use my time wisely. He was a hardworking man so he valued every second and minute of it. “Eat fast and early to get ready for the day’s drudgery”, this had been his motto and I eventually tailed it.

When he sent me out that night, I knew he wanted me to discover something. Perhaps that is to keep an eye on what’s important and to learn that multitasking should not be used as an excuse to failure. Oddly, I realized that I have been already living up to my dad’s principle. He put me through difficulties at an earlier time so now that he’s gone I can soar high like an eagle without being scared to fall.

And for that, I will always be grateful because he is my father.

 

55 thoughts on “Negative Inspiration

  1. Two miracles, that you overcame such a difficult childhood, and that you can forgive your father, is very encouraging. I have people in my life who are still unconsciously clinging to the hurts of the past and it makes my heart ache for them. I don’t think anybody had the “Cosby Show”/ “Father Knows Best” fantasy upbringing. Yet we survive.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Daughters learning to forgive their fathers is one of the most difficult things we face after they pass. Mine has been gone 15 years as well. Although our stories are different (never any physical battering) he was strict and cold and distant and his expectations of us children were high. But not too high, I figured out later in life. Just high enough for me to have to reach my hardest, and learn from that reach. And for that I am so grateful, I wish I could tell my father this. Thank you for your story, it hit home. ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Lebana, I salute your courage in speaking about your childhood abuse. As a fellow survivor, I know that’s very difficult. I’m also impressed with your ability to forgive yourself and your father, as well as find negative inspiration in the abuse. (I love that phrase “negative inspiration”’!) But I have to disagree with you on one point; you were not a bad daughter. You’d be superhuman if you never had an ill thought or wish towards those who mistreat you.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much,Rose.I appreciated your feedback.It really took me a while to write down that childhood experience.It wasn’t easy but God gave me the courage to pen it.Thanks God!Well,I used to think that I was a bad daughter until you said I wasn’t.You’re pretty right,it was just a part of being human.God bless you!

      Liked by 2 people

  4. You still being a child. Not a bad child. You was an ignorant person and you have learned some things through your life but unfortunately stupidity is forever. It’s easy to figure out a dumbass. They try to write hard but they can’t write true things about how the world and life is for ordinary people.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. It is so refreshing to read this, and hear the lessons you learned. So many children drag their parent’s bitterness and mistakes into their adult lives…and it only hurts that adult ‘child’. Yes, there are horrific things that happen to children, and it saddens me greatly. But I rejoice when one of these is able to go on and have a fruitful life, despite their past. I’ve enjoyed reading your posts on here! Thank you for stopping by my site. Have a great day!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. its difficult to face anger and ignorance of parents in childhood…but daughters love their fathers the most as you explained in the end even after facing all the abuse..you still love him❤

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi!Welcome to my blog😀
      I am glad and honored that you like my content. My heart is overflowing with gladness,my dear. Peace and blessings!

      Like

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