When He Became My Father

My Father, an inverterate teacher, had taught me almost everything there was to know about how to lead. Words had come easily to me from the earliest days. so had social skills. I knew how to engage with people, think quickly on my feet, see issues and problems from the biggest possible perspective. By nature I was an idea man, a visionary of sorts, and i possessed an ability to persuade people to follow. Natural gift or talent. But here was the kicker - it became alarmingly clear to me that it might not always be this way. Rather, i began to intuit that there would be a change in the days to come.

"I have patterned my way of bringing up my kids from your father, he is a well rounded man, putting his family first in everything, not allowing any problems hinder achievement of his goals. He tells me always to know my goals and go for it, any circumstances that may stop me from reaching my goal is a different problem, Don't mix them up"



Well, nice one...This is not the first time that someone talk of my father this way, when they do, i hear them pause, recalling the days they've spent with my father...reminisce is the right term...then it's my time to talk.



When I think of my father, I remember him as an angry, strict, manipulator of circumstances, loving, family man.

why is the gap? i always ask myself...i maybe bitter about my past, but does he play a part of it? I dont know...maybe...still i don't know.

going back a few steps, i remember hiding in the CR of the stablishment where I used to work releasing the bitterness i have...bitter of not having my father beside me when i needed him most, why did he die so early? has always been the question...tears would flow...then take a deep breath, tension is gone...back to work