Different Age, Impaired Eyes


For every generation, for every age we belong to we look at life differently.  Different age, different perspective.  When I was a child and up to my teen years, I hated and despised my father.  I hated his strictness, his philosophy.  He ruled with an iron fist when it came to me.  They were times when both of my parents would get into argument, and my Dad would say, “I’d rather spend my time at the farm than in this house.”  And I said to myself, “What a jerk. Why can’t he talk to Mom civilly.”

When my daughter and I went to vacation in LA, we were at Universal Studios.  We practically spent the whole day there, from opening to closing, since we had to wait for our ride.  Late in that afternoon I told my daughter, “I’m tired I wish we could go home, but Papa I’m still having fun I want to stay here until they close.”  At that moment, it dawns on me twenty-two years ago, Disneyland in Anaheim, with my father telling us he’s tired and just want to go home and that was in the evening.  Inside of me a voice screaming, “Why, we’re still having fun, don’t be such a kill joy.”  Of course I would not say that in front of him given that in asian culture you never talk back to your elders and if you ask me what’s going to happen, trust me it’s not pleasant.

There and then it struck me as I get older I am becoming like my father.  It gives me understanding now why he acted that way and why he did certain things.  When I was married, there are times I didn’t want to go home.  I wanted to drive as far as away from home, not because I didn’t love them but because I was tired of doing everything, exhausted for keeping the fight going.  Now, I finally understood my father.  I sat down in the kitchen floor, my back against the wall by the window.  I was tired of everything, of cooking, cleaning the house and pulling double shifts on work. Head bowed down, my Dad came to my mind and the tears start rolling in.

One day I found myself having a big interest in gardening which I despise to do when I was younger.  I became interested in planting and growing my own vegetables.  Another one which my father is very profound of since he’s a farmer.  Most of the things he love to do I finally found myself doing it and it’s a weird feeling.  It made me see things from his perspective, now I know how he felt.

I used to be judgemental.  I looked down on people who were divorce.  I treated them like a third-rate citizen.  I’ve been through a lot of things in my life.  Things that are heartbreaking, that make you want to ask yourself, “Is life still worth living?”  It’s easy to judge someone but once you’ve been through it, you will understand the brokenness.  I never expected to be divorce.  I thank God for that, for putting me through such pain and difficult circumstances in my life.  It’s a very humbling process and it made me reach out to the broken.  It made me feel what they feel and how they felt it.  It gave me a front row seat in the face of despair, hopelessness, dejected and that feeling of being alone, no one to turn to.

Different age, impaired eyes

If you find your fellow human being going through trying times, please don’t be quick to judge.  The least thing they want you to do is to point out their faults.  Be there for them. Listen, don’t say a word.  Emphatize, hug them tight.  Do not compare your perfect life to their imperfect life.  You’ll never know, maybe, you will go through the same thing(s) they’re going through.  It did me.

To the broken and have recovered, help you’re fellow individual to get back up.  There’s no one else to help but each one of us.  They need us..more than ever.

Life is full of surprises…

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