I was born in a loving and caring family inside a home and a place where I can run to at the end of the day where a hot meal is waiting for me, where I am protected from danger and where parents are willing to risk their lives for me. Although we were lavished enough love by our parents, it was a kind of protective, impatient, dictatorial and conservative love.
A kind of love kids needed because they are totally dependent physically and emotionally to parents. The kind of love that my parents also learned from their parents and their parents’ parents that is now passed on us their children. Where love is confounded with discipline by instilling in our young minds that the voices of the elders are considered law, their opinions respected and to be followed sans proper scrutiny or evaluation. Not following instructions for doing simple errands is testing their patience leading to outburst specially from my mother whose hollering makes us jump four feet in the air or worst getting hit on any part of our body mostly on the bottom. Hollering commands and instructions are her usual way of making us do what she wants, a habit I guess I could attribute to my sisters’ stuttering.
This method of discipline evolved more out of need and tradition and not out of any psychological studies. Owing to the number of children, feeding, cleaning, taking care of each one, a communistic like discipline is imposed. There is no special diet for each child, no kitchen to request for specific food, all other tasks becomes daunting for a family of six and one mother. I was third from the oldest and when I was five years old we were already five in the family while my mom is on the way for the sixth.
From our parents we have witnessed a people with hardworking attitude, diligence and dedication to a family that they’ve committed their lives to. Showing affection, gentleness, and tolerance with our mistakes is a form of weakness in authority. Thus, manifesting endearment, tenderness and warmth was seldom if ever usually heard at all between parents and children. The word I love you, except those written in romance novels, wasn’t even a by word on television or radio. Those words were meant for lovers alone.
But life goes on, we went on to become men and women with pride and decency and now with families of our own. Culture changes and generation improves. We have learned to express our emotions and sentiments. It has become a byword in all places even on sidewalks and walls. Everyone says I love you indiscriminately and even when they turn their backs on you. Even then, even when it’s late to say, I love you!
Today is the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Even when it’s late to say, I say I love you not only to the Virgin Mary but also to my real mother who has endured so much and is now in the bosom of the father in heaven.
When was the last time you really needed (wanted) to say something but didn’t? Write a post about what you wanted to say. In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Break the Silence.”