The Imperfect-Father’s Day
Yes, it’s not International Father’s Day. It’s Indonesia Father’s Day. Why is it different? Well, I don’t know, don’t care either. To be honest, I don’t know if this day exists before, and somehow it makes me feel bad. You might think it because of my dad just passed away in July this year, and that’s true. But there is something more about him, something that I know but I don’t want to talk about. Something that exists for a long time, but I don’t want to elaborate. Something that I acknowledge, but maybe I bury it too deep inside me.
Here’s the thing, I love my dad, but not too much. I respect him, but he’s not the role model I wanted to be. It’s just different, and the sad truth about my dad is…….
I also hate him, a little bit.
Yes, it’s really not something that I should write or talk about, especially when he had died. Sometimes, I feel like I’m always the bad son, and maybe it’s true. So, let me just finish this story.
My dad is not much different from yours (maybe), sometimes he cares and loves us very much, but sometimes, he is also very harsh to me and my siblings. I can’t even count how much he had hit me back then. With a hand, belt, or even wood, I had it all. I knew his mother (my grandmother) is also very harsh to him, but still, I just don’t think it makes him can do the same thing to me. When I practice karate with my friends alone because the coach unable to attend, I still remember that he hit me and my brother in front of our friends because we take rest too much. I hold both my tears and embarrassment for 2 hours straight. And still, my fear of him makes me returned to the same place the next day, and fortunately none of our friends talk about it.
He is also very controlling; he is the master of the house. Nobody can change his mind, maybe except my mother, but I guess it takes a very serious fight to make that happen. But on the bright side, he is not the man who cares much about my school grade. Just in case you ask, yes my dad did the same thing to my sisters. I just recognized it when he left us because he has to work outside town a couple times, all of us feel free. I play online games until midnight, my brother drove the motorcycle outside, and sometimes my sisters came home very late at night too. I can’t say it was the right thing to do, it just we feel the same way, freedom.
But not all of the result is bad, he is the man who made me brave to fight and kick people’s ass if I have to. When I was a little kid, I am very quiet and truly a crybaby, and my dad hated it very much. My brother is always the person who protected me the most in elementary school. My dad is also the man who taught me that I can’t be kind to everyone, especially a toxic person. Also, apart from the controlling part, he always reminds us to help each other as a family even though we will leave each other someday for a new journey with our partner. To be honest, my dad is not the main breadwinner. It’s my mom, she makes most of the money for us, but my dad is always the one who takes initiative when we sort of money. He is not afraid to sell everything he has to sort it out, so you can guess he is very far from luxury things, and I loved it.
I remember when I decided to move 750 km away to start my college, I was very happy. It’s not because I got accepted at prestigious college, but because again, I feel free. I only have little amount of money, I never buy new clothes, my shoes torn apart but I still wear it, and I was using my five-year-old outdated android smartphone without any single amount of doubt because the freedom is what I want. Yes, sometimes I feel bad because I had to ask for money from my parents when I know they were struggling too, but at least I always spent my money carefully. Sometimes, I make excuses when I don’t want to return, so I can enjoy my free time in semester break.
The thing is, my dad is not very healthy. He had diabetes since I was in junior high school. He started running and lost significant weight, but it turned out his heart is weak either. When me and my siblings start working, we bought a new car because he can’t drive motorcycle every day for 20 kilometers to work. When I started working 1,500 km away, again, I did not care too much about my dad. I started living my live to the fullest, make plans to have my own house, travel around places, and so on. Little that I know my dad’s condition is getting worse and you may expect I was the least-prepared person to be ready for the bad news. And it came in July 2021, he fainted suddenly and passed away from heart attack.
And I swear until this time, I did not even shed a single tear from my eye for him. I was shocked when I hear my father had passed away, but still, I was confused. In my way back home, I was thinking why I don’t cry, like in movies when they can scream, mourn, regretting all of the wrongdoings they had done, but I don’t. I keep asking myself is it because I hated him too much? Or is it just because I’m not a crybaby anymore? It can’t be true; I can cry a lot watching Five Feet Apart, but I think now I’ve found the answer.
It because I am used to that.
To put it simply, I’m used to pretend in front of my dad. I barely notice, but now I think of it, it’s true. I’m much different person my dad wants me to be but I don’t have the courage to show it in front of him, so I pretend to be like it. I was a coward, and that makes me a bad son after all, and yes I regret it. Of course I can’t cry, because my dad didn’t like it. I’d rather hold all of my tears than seeing him look down on me. People may see me as brutally honest and cocky person, but it isn’t the same case in front of my dad. I pretend to like whatever he like, agree to whatever he said, and do whatever he told me to do. You may think it’s a normal thing to do to your parents, but I don’t think so. I was a powerful liar and I shouldn’t be like that, and now I’m feeling terrible to all of it.
But still, he is my dad. He is not the greatest person and obviously not the person I admire the most to be honest. I should hold him back and say thank you for everything and I’m sorry that I’m different from him before he goes, but now it’s useless. So here I am, still continuing my life, and I promise I won’t pretend anymore. If I can make a wish for this Father’s Day, I hope someday he’ll see the true me and still loves me. And someday if I become a father, I would like to see my children for just the way they are without any mask in face. It’s true that there’s no perfect father nor can I become one, but my wish is someday I can hear my children say at least once in my life:
