I grew up detached to my father; the reason was simply because my father didnâ€™t express his love for me like my mother. He didnâ€™t say he loved me, he didnâ€™t say he was proud of me. Somehow his words always fell short. I saw movies, read books and fantasized about having the perfect father daughter relationship which everyone seemed to be enjoying but me. I would come home with a victory; he would just smile and turn back to doing his work.
The lack of communication in the relationship made me have many inhibitions. These inhibitions turned from denial to accept his inability to understand that I crave for a loving relationship with him to anger where my actions resembled to that of a rebel, because it seemed like every time I acted out and did something wrong, only then would I be able to grab his attention.
Every time I confronted my mother about such a distant behaviour of my dad, she would just smile and say that he doesnâ€™t show it because he wants me to become strong. But I never understood this logic of my mother, I would say â€œMaa, stop covering for him. You know he doesnâ€™t love me.â€
Time flew by and almost everything changed but me and my fatherâ€™s relationship was still distant, finding it difficult to sit in the same room or hug each other like I would hug my mother. Every hurdle would weaken me and my mother, but he never encouraged me. He never lovingly pushed me to achieve my goal, all he would ever say was â€œso? Whatâ€™s the big deal? You didnâ€™t get into the first college you applied; you will get into the next one or maybe the one after thatâ€.
Somehow whenever my motherâ€™s love and encouragement couldnâ€™t push me to believe in myself, the blunt words of my dad drove me to achieve something big just to prove him wrong. After facing an interview with a very prestigious company, I called my mother and told her the good news. Upon reaching, I was surprised to see a bunch of my favourite flowers, Dahlias, with a CD kept right next to it. I wondered who would do something like that for me.
I quickly fetched my laptop and played the CD and I began to cry, tears of frustration spilled out of my eyes. It took my father 24 years to finally express his appreciation for me. He had written me numerous letters every time we had fought. The letters contained tender words of appreciation and love which he couldnâ€™t say to me directly. Instead of talking and ruining the aura of this rare effort, I just went and gave him the father’s day gift I had ordered for him secretly. This was our first hug in a very long time and I am glad it wasnâ€™t the last.