Dad

I remembered conversations I had with my very great mentor and teacher about my parents. About the way they live and about how they could have changed if they wanted to. I was taking on the responsibility over their lives on myself, which caused me pain. Tomek explained that I have very little power over their decisions and no responsibility for them.

As I’ve just been thinking about my father, I felt a short sting of shame for not contradicting Tomek and instead just listening quietly when he said that my father can do it differently and it’s his own choice to live the life he lives. On the surface, he was right, there however is a deeper part to it.

I don’t accept shame in my mental model, so I immediately wanted to write Tomek a short letter, telling him that I do not agree with that. It was very hard to write about that, and I realised a lot of things about myself while doing so. I forgot that it was a letter to Tomek almost immediately. That is what came out of it:

Hi Tomek, I’ve just now caught myself thinking about my father. About how hard I’ve seen him work. And about how much I’ve seen him struggle. I remembered our conversations about my parents. About how we’ve been saying that they can do it differently, about how they can change their lives. But I got a second to analyze this. I understood something. A concept.

I’ve always seen my father struggle very greatly. To an extent that I have seen nowhere else. I know he cried when alone. He doesn’t know I do. He walked alone at night. Looked at the stars quietly. Many years ago he was the soul of every company. The heart of every conversation. He was the funniest, the loudest, the most enthusiastic person I’ve ever known. Now he loves the quiet. He doesn’t talk very much.

He always cared very much about us. I don’t know anybody else who can love as deeply as he loved us. Not even me myself. Nobody sees his pain. Nobody ever did. I didn’t either for a long time. He has everybody’s back, yet nobody has his. Nobody ever had. Many people have him, but he doesn’t have anybody. He has his parents, his family. Yet he’s alone.

Throughout my life I learned to see. I learned to see people. Not their masks, or how they present them to the world. I learned to see them. One day I started noticing. I started seeing his inner world. Every time I think about his story. About his path. Tears run down my face. I can’t fathom it.

Earlier it seemed so obvious to me. Now I understand, there comes a moment when the pain is so great that your mind builds walls. So great that the realization and analysis of them would surely kill you. His mind protects him from death via blocking of the thinking process on certain topics. That’s why he makes the amount of money he makes, works the way he works, thinks the way he thinks, and believes the things he believes.

He does the best he can, he always has. He holds back tears, he smiles through pain, he clenches his teeth together and goes to a cold, dark, empty garage where he repairs cars to get little money that he uses to buy us food. To buy us new shoes. He finds himself alone at night, walking down a street again.

He is wrapped up in a great circle of pain, of darkness, of sorrow, of loneliness, of not understanding, why? Yet he never told anyone. He never cried in front of us, or anybody. He is the strongest man I know. He is the most broken man I know.

His life is a great tragedy no movie or literature could describe. It is not fathomable. It is not possible to make others feel and understand what that is. Yet his life isn’t getting better yet. I’m very afraid that it never will. I hope it will.

This circle is repeating itself because the analysis that has to be made in order to change certain points of view is way too painful to survive. His mind doesn’t allow him to understand. If it does, it will break him beyond repair. Beyond living.

He is in pain. I love him. I hope he will get better. But I, with deep understanding, cannot imagine how. I hope. I love him. I’m in pain while I write this. I’ll stop at that.

Dad, I understand you. I love you.