The boyfriend might be mildly mortified by this but the truth is, I am getting rather enthusiastic about East End and, in turn, the wedding. Maybe it’s because there really is nothing much to look forward in my life other than exciting events and travel plans but I am genuinely delighted at the fact that I am getting the chance to decorate my very own pad my way.
Sometimes, I look at my life and I say a little prayer of thanks to the big man above because things could have turned out so differently.
Reading last Saturday’s news report on the impact of divorces on children, my heart turned cold and I felt sorrowful for those who had to grow up with more than what their young souls could handle.
I know that compared to them, I am extremely lucky. Looking at it from a seemingly callous point of view, I think it was fortunate that I grew up in a family where one parent was robbed from my life by Death. Call it an act of fate or just nature taking its course, it was not a conscious choice made by my father to collapse on the basketball court and breathe his last.
In the case of a divorce, the reasons are always man-made and the beneficiaries of these decisions are not just the adults but also the children. I’d go as far as to say that it’s better to have a father buried six feet under than one who is irresponsible, abusive or violent.
Nonetheless, the pain of growing up with the loss of a parent is so deep that nobody can really understand. As a child, your understanding of the world and its issues are limited, you can only seek to see things through your childish eyes. Whether through death or divorce, all you see is that you are different from other children and it’s almost like a handicap – a lost limb or an eye.
Maybe that’s why most of us make up for it in other, more extreme ways. Some become single-minded in their studies, as if to prove that they can do it too. Some, like me, turn on the loudness and the toughness as a mask to prevent others from being able to hurt them. Others go down the path of depravity, simply because the world no longer seems sensible and correct anymore.
Yes, there were many paths that I could have walked down but through some stroke of miracle, I did not go down the wrong one.
I could have hung out with teen gangs or shoplifted or lost interest in my studies or slashed my wrists or shut myself into a world inhabited by nobody but myself.
But I didn’t. Instead, I hung on tightly, as lonely as it was.
I will never know why or how I did it. Maybe it was in the very core of my being, this sense of independence and willingness to walk in the darkness, certain that I will see the light soon. Maybe it was because I had a very strong kinship with my extended family members, who took me under their wings.
Reading the article made me realise, once again, that I am truly blessed. I hope that I can always look at things this way and be grateful for all that I have become.