Sometimes I will feel confused at the embarrassing relationship between my father and me. Though we are father and son, however, it seems we are like strangers. Seldom and seldom do we talk for more than one minute at home. Each of us has our own business to mind though we are both enjoying holidays, thus it appears that we have almost no time to get together and have a chat.
Actually I know it is just a pretense. In fact we have a lot of chances to chat. For instance, fairly often we enjoy meals together. That is a good opportunity to tattle about each other’s work or study. But piteously, both of us are reluctant to break the ice. We are just minding our own bowl and try our best to finish the meal as soon as possible as if on wind. Having dinner with my father renders me a feeling of awkwardness. Such kind of situation has been lasting since I had my own independent consciousness.
My good friends and relatives all know my erratic relation with my dad. Some of them do their utmost to help me overmaster this knotty problem, but all of their efforts have become in vain. Now they all steer clear of this spiny trouble after all feckless exertions.
As a matter of fact, they all know that it is owing to my father’s weird personality. When I was a little child, he barely dandled his son, but rather, he often sprinkled this kinda favor to my neighboring children. He never talked with me, but when I did something wrong, he would lash at me with slashing remarks. When I was sick and my mum called him back to take me to hospital, he would reproach me sternly for not caring myself attentively and bringing about so much trouble for him. Hence each time when I was ill, I dare not inform him of it , but rather, I preferred to turn to my old grandfather. He was so kind that he would never scold me but soothe me to my heart’s content! My father never knew how much his son was longing for his loving care. He never knew how much his son was craving for his kindly smile towards him instead of severe impression. He never knew how much his son was dying for his warm hug though it might just occur now and again. Nor did he know how much grievance stemming from life and study his son was yearning to pour out to him merely for a piece of comfort! Many a time I just feel he is like a money-contained machine that will just give me nothing but money. Nonetheless, I never disaffirm the great utility of money. Thanks to his support, I can accomplish my study smoothly, and can simply write such a long English essay here! Hehe!
now I still have little to talk with him. We all keep silent when staying together and try to evading each other. It is literally awkward! But still, I do not know how to resolve this issue. I hope time can melt all the misunderstandings away, if there are any. |
