Of all the people I enjoy my life with, my father is a tough person to have clarity about. Not that I don’t have fun with him, but just that it is not obvious enough for anyone to know. Not even the two of us. I often forget how I couldn’t get luckier to have this person in my life. He tries to be the friend. And, that’s more than enough.
I believe that’s how fathers and sons have lived around, trying to be. This relationship is way more complicated than a couple about to be divorced. There is no scale to tell how bad a couple feels about falling apart. But, definitely, a relation between the father and a son does not fall into the discussions of a ‘scale to measure goodness.’
By the way, I wouldn’t doubt about my interest in science to be vastly influenced by his take on the subject. To which, I owe him a lot.
As I see it, this uncertainty is not about being jealous or disliking each other. That is clearly not the case. It is more about not being obvious to the love between us. It’s there, but we don’t acknowledge it to the world. Which is just beautiful enough to be real. It’s also frustrating to not know. The only problem is men are so shy about the feelings they share that it’s hard to even admit. So are women. So is anyone who gets to live and have the sense of emotion on this planet.
I wonder when will we get past the current age where people say “He’s just like his father” or that “He is overprotective about his son.” This is mostly possible when men realise that being a man doesn’t mean to ‘not’ be feminine.
I read in a book, incompletely, about how the art of being masculine is to be appreciative about the femininity that your genes carry. Because, guess what? Your mom is a female. Meaning, to be a man is to be a human. It’s more than being just the opposite to a gender. I don’t know how the topic went from talking about my relationship with my father to masculinity.
Maybe that’s because he’s the first man I ever saw. Happy birthday, Pappa!