Regrets
Once again, life is on hold while my father is in the hospital. This time, it's more serious. His chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) has worsened. He now needs a compressed air machine forcing air into his lungs. Our biggest problem is that it's just two of us, my husband and me. Our daughter is in her junior year of college, and must continue her studies. Being an only child is both a blessing and a curse.
At his eighty-five years, my father has already lived a long life. His is the generation that has gone from the nineteenth century to the twenty-first in material and social matters. Rural Spain when he was born in 1931 was not the rural Spain of now. There was no running water in the houses, no toilets, no electricity. There were only the very occasional cars that belonged to the very wealthy. People moved mostly on foot or by cow-drawn carts, or by donkey. The poor didn't have horses, either. Education was received if one paid for it. The lucky ones who could pay a priest or an itinerant teacher, learned to read. Sometimes, when a family's fortune changed, there would be the irony of the father being literate, and the son illiterate.
Now, every house has running water, and sometimes two or three bathrooms. There is electricity to run everything. Now, one need not walk to the next village to talk with someone. Countless means of communication, from the lowly telephone, to the cell phone, to wireless applications, to internet, to Skype, mean that one need not be in another person's presence to talk with them, or have to write a letter that would take two weeks to arrive at its destination. Every household has at least one car, sometimes as many cars as individuals with driver's licenses. Cows and donkeys have disappeared, and chickens and pigs are becoming more scarce, along with goats, sheep, and rabbits. Everybody must go to school from six years to sixteen. If they don't learn to read it's because they were asleep all during school.
People who were born with nothing and seemingly ended up with everything need to adjust. Some did it better than others. My mother adjusted to the increasing modernity, and took advantage of it. In fact, she was the one who always encouraged my father to do so. Socially, she also adjusted better, though she clung to certain ways of seeing things, such as having their only daughter with them for when old age came. My father never really changed his outlook on social matters. To him, children existed for the benefit of the parents. As in olden times, all the children got together to help out the parents, and obeyed them, so he thinks it should be now. Which has become a large cause for conflict between us. My father believes I should anticipate his every wish, and obey him implicitly. I believe otherwise. To me, the relationship between a parent and child is that of mutual respect. A parent must teach a child to respect him and others, but must also respect that child as a separate person with his own worldview and opinion on doing things. To me, a child is not an appendage of the parent.
My father's antiquated social beliefs also dictate that a parent should not show excessive love toward the child, because that would cause the child to lose respect for the parent. Which is why, ever since I was an adolescent and began to think for myself, my father has become more stern towards me. Deep down, I assume he loves me, but he never shows it. Instead, he shows anger, frustration, and a certain coldness towards what I do or say. Partly, it's because of his belief in distance, but also of dismay at my way of thinking, so diametrically opposite to his. I show my daughter love every day I'm with her, or just about. For no reason, I will hug her. She hugs me back. I love to feel her arms around me, and I love to feel her in my arms. I could never do that with my father. I feel envy when I see how my daughter and her father show their love for each other. I haven't had that my entire adult life.
Now that his life is probably drawing to a close, what I feel most is regret. Regret that I could never have a relationship with my father like other fathers and daughters have. Regret for the hugs and kind words I have never received. Regret for the approval we all look for from our fathers that I never enjoyed.
If you love someone, show them that love.
At his eighty-five years, my father has already lived a long life. His is the generation that has gone from the nineteenth century to the twenty-first in material and social matters. Rural Spain when he was born in 1931 was not the rural Spain of now. There was no running water in the houses, no toilets, no electricity. There were only the very occasional cars that belonged to the very wealthy. People moved mostly on foot or by cow-drawn carts, or by donkey. The poor didn't have horses, either. Education was received if one paid for it. The lucky ones who could pay a priest or an itinerant teacher, learned to read. Sometimes, when a family's fortune changed, there would be the irony of the father being literate, and the son illiterate.
Now, every house has running water, and sometimes two or three bathrooms. There is electricity to run everything. Now, one need not walk to the next village to talk with someone. Countless means of communication, from the lowly telephone, to the cell phone, to wireless applications, to internet, to Skype, mean that one need not be in another person's presence to talk with them, or have to write a letter that would take two weeks to arrive at its destination. Every household has at least one car, sometimes as many cars as individuals with driver's licenses. Cows and donkeys have disappeared, and chickens and pigs are becoming more scarce, along with goats, sheep, and rabbits. Everybody must go to school from six years to sixteen. If they don't learn to read it's because they were asleep all during school.
People who were born with nothing and seemingly ended up with everything need to adjust. Some did it better than others. My mother adjusted to the increasing modernity, and took advantage of it. In fact, she was the one who always encouraged my father to do so. Socially, she also adjusted better, though she clung to certain ways of seeing things, such as having their only daughter with them for when old age came. My father never really changed his outlook on social matters. To him, children existed for the benefit of the parents. As in olden times, all the children got together to help out the parents, and obeyed them, so he thinks it should be now. Which has become a large cause for conflict between us. My father believes I should anticipate his every wish, and obey him implicitly. I believe otherwise. To me, the relationship between a parent and child is that of mutual respect. A parent must teach a child to respect him and others, but must also respect that child as a separate person with his own worldview and opinion on doing things. To me, a child is not an appendage of the parent.
My father's antiquated social beliefs also dictate that a parent should not show excessive love toward the child, because that would cause the child to lose respect for the parent. Which is why, ever since I was an adolescent and began to think for myself, my father has become more stern towards me. Deep down, I assume he loves me, but he never shows it. Instead, he shows anger, frustration, and a certain coldness towards what I do or say. Partly, it's because of his belief in distance, but also of dismay at my way of thinking, so diametrically opposite to his. I show my daughter love every day I'm with her, or just about. For no reason, I will hug her. She hugs me back. I love to feel her arms around me, and I love to feel her in my arms. I could never do that with my father. I feel envy when I see how my daughter and her father show their love for each other. I haven't had that my entire adult life.
Now that his life is probably drawing to a close, what I feel most is regret. Regret that I could never have a relationship with my father like other fathers and daughters have. Regret for the hugs and kind words I have never received. Regret for the approval we all look for from our fathers that I never enjoyed.
If you love someone, show them that love.
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