Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Limitless flows of love and adoration to my father

Just had this thought about children's love and proud of their parents. "My daddy is rich, my daddy is honest, my daddy can beat up your daddy" etc. I don't even know how to describe my own father. Really. I can't choose only one adjective to emphasize all his merits.

My daddy is the best. Simple as that.

Because he never scolded me or sweared at me [and now I KNOW he wanted]. No matter how dumb I acted, how badly I answered back, he patiently waited my tantrum to pass. And I always apologized after... instinctively, I guess.

Because he never insulted my mother. I mean, we are normal family, not a bunch of angels. They have quarrels, they can be angry with each other and not speak for days. But he never insulted her.

Because he did everything for the family. He fought for our peace and evenness, he collected scrap metals to make some money for summer trip. He buried our smashed by car cat not letting little me see it [thank god, I think now]. When we needed, he helped, he repaired, he stayed, he waited, he explained as many times as possible.

He sang us lullabies and read "The Little Prince" and told why two lamps in one electric circuit shine weaker.

My mom wants that my everything would go well. My dad wants me move forvard. I want him being proud of me and though I would never be a world-famous artist, I will always paint for him.

I always tell my mother how much I love her but rarely I speak to father about how great he is.

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