The hardest part of growing up is deciding who you want to be. You feel pressures that are really nonexistant and forces unknown. But through career paths and talks of salary who will you be as a person. I look at myself in the mirror and I see a boy who is the spitting image of a man who has struggled and fought. I used to complain that I never wanted to be like this man, my own father.
Today, I sat down and really thought to myself, would it be such a bad thing? Throughout the drama of life, he has managed to keep a level head, an open mind, a patient demeanor and a loving heart.
My own father would go through things few others would. He loves his family more than he loves himself, a feat rarely seen in today's world. And when you finally tell him these things, he will shrug them off in true humility. He is not afraid to let the world see him angry, or sad or even cry. In today's world of stoic masculinity and the ideal rugged man, the thought of a man crying shows he is weak or sissy, or heavan for bid gaywad. He lets his emotions show in goodness to others and himself.
At the end of the day, I really wonder if I could be a fraction of the man he is.
I love you, Dad
No comments:
Post a Comment