i phoned my father today....his birthday, and their anniversary.
so sad i became....speaking with him....mortality clearly apparent in his demeanor. the fatigue of life marked in his voice...and i couldn't help but feel so bleak from the call of well-wishing....knowing that the natural processes of time and life are in their final movements concerning this individual with whom i have had a lifetime's wealth of interaction....love mainly, with a mix of hate...occasional shame...much admiration and respect...and more.
life moves on for those able to accept it and go forward...those who don't have a diminished regard for it, and suffer the inevitable consequences for that. his was a life fraught with difficult situations and events, and yet he persisted....propelled by this sense of compassion and care...which was instilled in me as a form of continuity i supose...without encouragement or discouragement....genetics....
here is a man who as a doctor of medicine, specialising in mental disorders, had people leaving their doctors to be treated by someone of empathy and ability, someone who cared as he cured...causing untold amounts of animosity to befall him by said doctors, the pharmaceutical community...because the idea of treating a patient instead of masking the symptoms was apparently unaccepted a form of practise.
not combative of or for his own life, he did so when dealing with those in his care. he created in me, someone who tended towards a certain amount of combativeness within himself while also favouring always the underdog, the innocent and the ones unable to defend themselves. and yet i too seem to be limited with regard to fighting for myself...or at least, considering my own situations and feelings in the overall, for which i have been made to suffer at various times of my life. it became most poignant a few years ago and...well...i have a life and a love that are why i exist...the 10-15 years prior to now seem so insignificant.
still, as i listened to him...as i write this...knowing that time is disappearing for him and for my mother....she turning 90 in a year abd change...wondering what the room will look like once those doors are shut....both entirely different as individuals....and yet...they had this something that bonded them for most of their lives...to varying degrees...she the artist and muse of life...he the craftsman and the problem solver...
happy birthday papa....
