Father’s Day, etc.

by Owaiz

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So there’s this meme on the internet. There are thousands of people who would’ve shared it because they love their parents. But the thing is that there are thousands who would’ve ignored it, too, and not because they think this meme is utterly ridiculous, but because they mean it, and it gives them a certain satisfaction; even the stupid idea of your parent getting cancer by not sharing a meme is satisfying when you’ve been wronged by them. Not wronged because they didn’t get you an iPad, or iPhone, or something, but because they gave you wounds that will never heal. Messed you up beyond repair.

So it made me wonder and I had to write something about it. Not very good, I know, but I just had to put this out.

 

We have Father’s Day and Mother’s Day every year. What are they for and what do they celebrate?

These days, they come and go every year. Every year this boundless love of parents is celebrated, the same cycle, along with the reminders of treating these loving parents the same way throughout the year instead of remembering to love them on these days only.

Are they symbolic, and does Father’s Day represent the protection, the safety, and everything else a father provides? Is Mother’s Day there to represent the care and boundless love of the mothers in general?

 

Or are these days there for people to celebrate their own parents: each on their own day. If so, then what about the ones who have no reason to celebrate one, or both, of these days? What do they do? Should they vent-out and let everyone know what a joke their parent(s) have been, or sit quietly, cursing under their breath, or just suck it up?

If there is a day to celebrate the greatness of the parents, then why is there not a day for the services like CPS, hard at work night and day, to protect the children from their parents? What about the kids they rescue? They may find better homes, move on, lead better lives, but they will always have a past they can’t erase.

How about bastards? Looking at a bastard and their father, don’t you wonder who the bastard really is? The child gets called a bastard condescendingly, a mark for the rest of their life, while the real bastard goes free, and probably gets praised on Father’s Day. Oh joy!

 

So who is this post for? It’s for the children who cringe inside on these days, get sick when they see all the Happy Mother’s Day, Happy Father’s Day crap. Where is their day? The lucky children get to celebrate their love and blessings, but when do these unlucky ones get to voice their anger and disappointment? When can they tell the world how glad they would’ve been had they never had such parent? Or is this another thing they will continue to be deprived of?

 

I don’t mean to offend good parents. But there are children who look at the wonderful parents and wonder, “What if?”

What if I had a parent like that?

What if I had a normal life?

What if I was loved like that?

What if my parent was there for me?

What if that child was me?

 

And they wonder how it would’ve been. And they wish for it. They wish, and wish, and shake themselves out of their reverie. They are the ones left to lick their own wounds, damaged beyond repair, because the wounds of time don’t heal. The pain lingers, underneath the skin, not visible but always there. Pretending to be normal, suppressing their rage, anger, resentment, indignation.

 

When you cut the wings of a bird, they don’t grow back. The bird is bird by nature, but can’t fly. Is it really a bird anymore? That’s what these children are like. Having an asshole for a parent is like being a bird without wings. They never learn how to fly. They try to be normal, blend in, and do everything they can. But they can never fly.

I don’t know. I’ve lost track now. This post may serve as a glimpse to the other side on these ‘special’ days. An acknowledgement to those who feel sick on these days and don’t know what to do. And to those who end up posting several status updates on Facebook to show their true feelings and end up deleting them, because they don’t want to deal with the judgments or hopes for better stuff. Because they really don’t want anything, not even hope, because everything is fine. They just want to show their true feelings, their rage and hate, just like they’d show their happiness about something without being judged.

To the children who’ve been wronged! To the parents who are assholes!

But here’s the other thing: If they cut your wings, just board a plane and fly. 

 

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