Stupid - Cover

Stupid

Copyright© 2009 by savijohn

Chapter 2

I was born in 1982, my parents were one among the several people I studied to understand life.

Dad worked hard. He had a job that helped us have a home. He worked 40 yrs at the same place. He was intelligent, but I don't know, he always wished things were better but never made an effort. Do I wish that he made more money, buy us more things, make some friends, fight the world, and be my hero? May be, I did. Now I respect him for whatever he did. If he was happy being worried, sad, lonely, sick, I am happy for him. He died before I could reach him, never told us he had heartburn on exertion. He feared hospitals, but I wish he made an effort to tell me. I could not give him everything. I might have operated him myself, provided better vascularisation, extended his life, decreased his misery a bit. I ll never know.

He loved us the way he could, I guess we did the same too. But, but, but as long as I m alive, I wish we could have been better dad-son. Wish I was stupider. Wish I could enjoy TV along with him, or be there every day making life for him, or I was never born so he could spare the time he spent on me and did what he enjoyed most a more. I will never know.

I have regrets, now that he is dead. I had them when he was alive. I think I tried to live his life for him. I backed out frequently allowing him freedom to chose, he didn't.

Maybe that was his choice.

My mom was a piece of art. I thought she was stupider. But she could listen. We told her everything. She had lots and lots of friends. Getting to a strange place, u'd expect her to make a few friends within minutes. People talked to her. She could have been a super therapist. Never did she tell them that she knew better. Whenever I confronted her, she d put a sordid face.' ... but I m stupid.' Till this day we never talked heart to heart, or rather Broca's area to area. She always had her masks.

 
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