Dear Daddy…(A Father’s Day Special Post) #47

“It’s a girl!”– The doctor handed me to him and I wish I remembered his first expression. It’s strange that we don’t remember seeing our mom and dad for the first time. Later, I heard Dad saw me before Mom, so maybe that’s why I have such a strong connection with him. All my relatives say I look like my Dad—even though his wide forehead and dark complexion weren’t the most attractive features, it’s still an honor to be so similar to him. Genes, you did great work!

One of the most common and lame questions elders love to ask kids is, “Who do you love more, mommy or daddy?” I don’t remember when I faced this inevitable question, but my answer was this: “I love Daddy this much” (showing a little amount with my hand) because he already loves me. I need to love Mama this much more” (stretching my hand as far as possible) because she loves my sister more than me. At the time, I was about 3-4 years old and thought that if I loved Mom more then she would give me more attention. Little did I know what my answer really meant—we often take those who love us for granted.

As I grew up, our interactions with Dad became less frequent due to his job. He couldn’t make it to annual sports days, parent-teacher meetings, birthdays or Durga Pujo (our biggest festival), among other things. The little time we got together usually ended up being spent listening to all the complaints we had against him.

I can’t even imagine the hard work and sacrifices my parents made to ensure a better future for me. Although they weren’t rich, they never said no to any of my needs. I never realized how long they had to save money and cut down their budget for their own basic requirements — let alone luxurious items — in order to buy me fancy shoes, a smartphone, or a new laptop. I used to get angry when Dad told me only to purchase what I needed. As I grew up, Mom became my best friend; Dad felt bad about having less interaction with me. He’s sensitive and rarely shares his feelings.

When I decided to work after graduating, my dad was the only one disappointed. He wanted me to pursue a master’s degree, but I refused. I was angry because he wasn’t supportive of my job. I regret being rude to him. Our parents do their best to give us the things they never had in life; it’s our responsibility to fulfill their dreams and make them proud by doing our best.

As Dad walked towards me at the airport when I last visited my hometown, a tear welled up in my mind. He looked old and feeble, so unlike the hero he had always been to me. Not just physically but mentally too, he didn’t seem as strong as before. I felt guilty knowing that my parents had done so much for me yet I was unable to give them the support they needed now. When people get older, they need love and care – sometimes it’s good to show them some extra love too.

Happy Father’s Day! All dads are awesome heroes. I love and respect you all.

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