I was stunned. First, I knew that we would avoid that path altogether. But more importantly those words coming from him is a first.
Positive. words.
I never received much encouragement in my life, especially from my father who was better at being a critic if not being silent. And to hear him preach to me about giving positive words left me
utterly
speechless.
The nerve of this man to preach encouragement? but i guess two positive things could be culled from this.
One. at least, in the face of much sickness he finally realizes the value of words, and positive words at that. call it an enlightenment perhaps?
Two. This is perhaps our quest in life. to give not what we have received as when you hear people say giving back.
no The harder task is to give what we have not received - what we should have received.
I also realized this in the final years of my brief teaching career. I started out as one of the strict teachers eventually realizing that encouragement or a good word is often more important than "imparting knowledge" and "disciplining".
but i found it quite hard at first to do this to my father - pride? anger?
or a memory?
a memory or the lack therefore of encouragement from him, a memory of him cheating on my own mother more than once, and eventually ending their marriage, a memory of how he seemed to have chosen his own job, his own ideology, his "art", and his vices over his own family many many times in many ways.
at one point in the later years, he would apologize for his own failure as a father
"but", he said.
"It has made you stronger"
i don't know about that.
memories.
The thing about them is that much of them needs to be forgotten, if only we can. a memory, if it is constantly recurring will interfere with the present - with the task at hand.
i met a lady at the nursing home, a former teacher. she will constantly ask you where you are from. even if you answered this question 5 minutes ago. at one point she thinks the nursing home is their cooperative way back when at this you are clients, at one time she think it was her home and you are guests. her memory, her past interferes with her present, making her unable to live it. she is just not here.
in many ways, we have memories we need to forget, if only to be able to live or do the task in the present.
a lover is betrayed, the memory of the betrayal will carry over to the future lovers who will have to share the burden of a crime they never committed. distrust, suspicion, and endless array of tests. or it will deter any future interactions.
a past interfering with the present.
this year our grandmother died. it has been 7 months but the memories persist. of her whenever i pass by the park full of old people doing their taichi, or the memory of our last moments together before she got sick- moments where i failed her. our family owed much to her, and i specially did in her final moments. a memory of how she has transformed in the course of her sickness,
how eventually she would forget the names of her children, when they ask for a name, she mentioned mine.
a memory of how the large needle went through her body to pump formalin (my brother and I stayed with her until the end), how i burried her blood, how heavy the casket was etc - this is perhaps nothing compared to the memories that persists in her daughters ( my aunts) and sons (my uncles).
or how about my father, who now also suffers dementia, (he can no longer walk as well) if by any hint he remembers or is reminded that he lost his parents, he will again suffer the pain of loss.i have seen this more than once. he mentions his own father, suddenly is reminded that his own father is already gone, he bursts into tears. the same scenario happens on a different day.
there are people who go around with black plackards saying "we will never forget" "never again"
because they need to keep the wounds of the past fresh enough
i guess there are good reasons to do so.
memories, what to do with them?
write them? draw them? if only we could forget.
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