Time to put our fingers back to the keys, I haven't written in forever. Well I'll start out strong. Today I'm talking about one concept near and dear to my heart and life. Different kinds of love. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, as a son I'm pretty odd to understand. My parents have been fighting an uphill battle with me for about 20 years now. It's a Herculean task and I can only ever thank them for giving me so much effort.
But yes, as a child I was and still am a handful. It's hard especially when your child seems to be an almost alien type of person to you. You see, I spent my life living in books, working with numbers and being a dreamer. Both of my parents didn't have such a luxury. Life hit them fast and it hit them hard. My dad losing his father at 18 and my mom working a farm. Life wasn't easy and they didn't really have the opportunity I have now. My dad being a very social, “people smart”; kind of person and my mom being street smart through constantly looking for how life will attack us next. If I met the people I just described, and they weren't my parents; all evidence points to us not getting along. We'd be incompatible as people.
But yet these are my parents, they love me and I love them. And every parent wants their child to be like them to an extent, but I was just odd in every way. My dad probably expected some sort of people person, my mom probably wanted a son who didn't act so robotic. Yet they received me. Yet they love me. And yet I love them.
We don't love each other in the traditional sense. Sure I get into at least 12 arguments a day with my mom and double so with my father, I know they love me. My mother, knowing what it was like to starve; never allows me to not eat. No matter what time I show up, she either already has or will begin to cook, showing her love by giving sustenance. She loves me by protecting me from what she had to endure. My father may think that my work pales to his, but he brags that his son is a genius to anyone who will hear him. I know he's proud of me even though he doesn't quite understand him. He's giving something his father never really have to him. It's their different kinds of love.
And me, well I believe things that are strong don't decay quickly. This is why I don't constantly remind people that I love them. I love my parents and I always will. And I'll show my love by working even harder, by becoming even better. Nothing fills a parent's heart with more joy than pride in their child, they all yearn to see their child be amazing. The very least I can do is be amazing to prove their love isn't misplaced. A single hug from out of the blue from a son who doesn't usually get close, learning from the sidelines about what my father does, or even sitting down for family breakfast once in awhile. It's these little things that I use to show my love, I know it's minuscule compared to them, but I'll keep trying.
I love you mom and dad, and don't ever forget that. I hope one day you get to read this article. No matter how things look, what we say or how little we see each other. I will always love you the way you've loved me. I hope you all share my sentiment and see the different kinds of love in your life.
