I haven't ever ever ever ever ever written or spoken about Father's Day. It would be a lie if I said I've never thought about it either. Of course I have. It's unnatural not to.
And since I've never written about it, I thought I really should. Not because I have to but because I want to. And share with you, I must, about what it is to have a mother for a father.
Because I do not have an ideal about what a father should be like or shouldn't be like, I have no comparisons to make; I have just my worldview of how things are when you have your mother be your father too :)
It's not something anyone ever imagines, even in their wildest dreams. But when you're faced with the circumstances you're in, things just fit in. Or have, in my case. There have been no questions or words that are out of place, because I don't know what that place is - the place that reserves the tag of a father. I just have and I just live. And like I always say, it's not because I have to, but because I want to. Maybe I should make that sentence "mine".
Anyhoo, so yeah, what is it like to have a mother be a father too?
Well, no one can ever be a father, except a father. And no one can ever be a mother, except a mother. All one can do (naturally or by force) is to be as close to the ideal as possible. It's just the law of roles, relationships and people. According to me i.e.
Having said that, I couldn't have got a better semblance of this ideal we all call 'dad'. When you're in a single-parent family, everything doubles, very ironically. There's protectiveness and then there's extreme protectiveness. There's worry and then there's extra worry. There's the support of a mother and then there's the support of a mother + her life + her everything, because that's all there is. Nothing less, ever. There are rules and then are ledgers of rules. There are curfews and then there are the mothers of all curfews. There are phone calls and then there are phone call checks. There's everything and a double of that, if not more.
I'll never know what it is like to grow up with a man in the house. I'll never know what it feels like to be protected by a man who is your own father. I will never know what being the possession of a father feels like. I will never know so much and more.
But I know that I've grown up in the hands of steel, clay and diamonds. I know what it feels like to have an iron lady in the house. I know what it feels like to be protected by a single mother. I know what it feels like to be hers. I know. I know what it feels like to be in hands of clay which allow me to become what I want to, when I want to. I know what it feels like to be raised in hands of diamonds because nothing/no one can compare. Ever. I know what it feels like to take on the world with fists of steel by my side.
And that's a feeling I cannot explain. When you're one, you get the power of two. You just do. You walk on and take on the world. It's no wonder I don't miss the concept or ideal of a father, because with someone like ma, there can be no one else who even comes close.
Which is perhaps why, in retrospect, I've never really celebrated a Mother's or Father's Day. I don't think I ever need to. It would be too redundant, if not cliched for the mother who stands tall above everything else. And that's all that matters.
And since I've never written about it, I thought I really should. Not because I have to but because I want to. And share with you, I must, about what it is to have a mother for a father.
Because I do not have an ideal about what a father should be like or shouldn't be like, I have no comparisons to make; I have just my worldview of how things are when you have your mother be your father too :)
It's not something anyone ever imagines, even in their wildest dreams. But when you're faced with the circumstances you're in, things just fit in. Or have, in my case. There have been no questions or words that are out of place, because I don't know what that place is - the place that reserves the tag of a father. I just have and I just live. And like I always say, it's not because I have to, but because I want to. Maybe I should make that sentence "mine".
Anyhoo, so yeah, what is it like to have a mother be a father too?
Well, no one can ever be a father, except a father. And no one can ever be a mother, except a mother. All one can do (naturally or by force) is to be as close to the ideal as possible. It's just the law of roles, relationships and people. According to me i.e.
Having said that, I couldn't have got a better semblance of this ideal we all call 'dad'. When you're in a single-parent family, everything doubles, very ironically. There's protectiveness and then there's extreme protectiveness. There's worry and then there's extra worry. There's the support of a mother and then there's the support of a mother + her life + her everything, because that's all there is. Nothing less, ever. There are rules and then are ledgers of rules. There are curfews and then there are the mothers of all curfews. There are phone calls and then there are phone call checks. There's everything and a double of that, if not more.
I'll never know what it is like to grow up with a man in the house. I'll never know what it feels like to be protected by a man who is your own father. I will never know what being the possession of a father feels like. I will never know so much and more.
But I know that I've grown up in the hands of steel, clay and diamonds. I know what it feels like to have an iron lady in the house. I know what it feels like to be protected by a single mother. I know what it feels like to be hers. I know. I know what it feels like to be in hands of clay which allow me to become what I want to, when I want to. I know what it feels like to be raised in hands of diamonds because nothing/no one can compare. Ever. I know what it feels like to take on the world with fists of steel by my side.
And that's a feeling I cannot explain. When you're one, you get the power of two. You just do. You walk on and take on the world. It's no wonder I don't miss the concept or ideal of a father, because with someone like ma, there can be no one else who even comes close.
Which is perhaps why, in retrospect, I've never really celebrated a Mother's or Father's Day. I don't think I ever need to. It would be too redundant, if not cliched for the mother who stands tall above everything else. And that's all that matters.
