Prompt: Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family
He flew into a rage, yelling at me. I sobbed, covering my mouth with a pillow to keep the sound from escaping. All this was sparked by not finding a cell phone battery charger.
Ever since I can remember, there was a massive block between my father and me. I always thought he was difficult and stubborn, and we used to fight over the most trivial things. After every fight, I felt I was the only one who was hurt. I would compare him to my friends' fathers who were friendly and warm to their children.
When I was thirteen, my grandfather had a stroke. Although I could sense my father's hidden sorrow, I tried not to let it affect me. One day, after returning from school, I saw him sitting motionless on the couch in the living room, like the wall clock in my grandfather's warehouse that long ago had stopped its chimes. He was hospitalized for depression. Wearing a pallid, blue patient gown and with his hair disheveled, he kept saying "sorry" without looking me in the eye. Rather than feeling compassion, I blamed him for not being a normal father like everyone else seemed to have.
After he left, I initially felt nothing; on the contrary, everything seemed easier. I could arrange the dishes however I wanted and did not have to quarrel over what TV programs to watch. On the way home from visiting my father, my mom told me his parents always wanted him to be an eminent professor. They were ashamed of him when he passed the civil service exam instead. For fifty years, he was coating himself with a rigid bark to prevent anyone from coming into his heart and to protect against being wounded again. In him, I could see a reflection of my ten-year-old self whose heart had been bruised. For the first time in my life, I felt a bond of sympathy was forming between him and me.
Everyone has their own history of hardships. No matter how mature people are difficult times leave an indelible mark inside. Thus, people cover themselves to hide and protect their own wounds. At first, one's manner might be harsh and abrasive, but now I know people's behaviors do not convey their real selves. People's behaviors are created in order to conceal fault and trauma that were formed over the course of a lifetime. I listen carefully to hear inside the shells people have become encased in, where the most sincere words can be found. Those words enable me to see people more clearly and to embrace them warmly. On the way toward reaching maturity, the insight I gained through the relationship with my father has helped me to become a considerate and observant person in the larger society.
After finishing his treatment, my father came home to rest. From that day onward, I started to talk to him, looking into his eyes, about my day. He just listened, giving a slight nod. The night before he returned to work, I hugged him with all my heart. "Everything will be alright," I told him. Although he did not say a word, I could hear his heart saying "thank you." His hardened bark was slowly peeling off.
First, I need to make an admin request - Please provide a more meaningful topic in the subject field when you open a new thread. (This one is attended by me) It is a forum rule as well as it helps you attract others' attention and earn more meaningful comments.
Ever since I can remember, there was a massive block between my father and me.
Ever since I can remember, there was a massive gap between my father and me.like the wall clock in my grandfather's warehouse that long ago had stopped its chimes.
... like the wall clock in my grandfather's warehouse that had stopped its chimes long ago.I could arrange the dishes however I wanted and did not have to quarrel over what TV programs to watch.
I could arrange the dishes as I wanted and did not have to quarrel over the TV programsI think you've done a good job! Good Luck!
