It looks like you're using an Ad Blocker.

Please white-list or disable in your ad-blocking tool.

Thank you.


Some features of ATS will be disabled while you continue to use an ad-blocker.


The Greatest Man I Know [LEWC]

page: 1

log in


posted on Jul, 19 2012 @ 07:41 AM
I am retelling to you the story not like a story, but rather like a biography, because he deserved to be remembered, just as he is, the greatest man I know. Many people have tried to tell me he was only a man, that he was not perfect but did in fact make mistakes in his life. But I must admit, I never saw it. If perfection walked this earth, I saw it reflected in my father heart.

He created for us, his family, an oasis of the divine, in the middle of a world he saw as evil. But he was our protecter from all evil. In the fantasy he weaved us, there were not wars or conflict, man did not hate his fellow man, there was never any sorrow and no pain a hug couldn't fix. There was only perfect peace, joy, and love.

We did get into trouble if we did a wrong, but he never once punished us in anger, never once spoke to us in anger, and never was there a voice raised in our home. There was only one time he lost his temper, and I remember it well, because it was the second time in my life I ever saw him cry.

He came home from one of his trips (he did this you know, took trips) with gifts for us children. He did not do this very often, this bringing of gifts, because he did not want to see us become spoiled, so this was a very joyful occasion indeed. Not only did we have him back, which was cause for celebration indeed, but we each had something special to unwrap. When he bought us gifts, he always took the time to pick something out for each one of us that was especially just for us, for the people he knew us to be. And there was none of that bringing home something for only one of us, no, we were all equally special and deserving in his sight.

Sometime that day, I do not know exactly when nor do I now remember what exactly happened, but my brother and sister did something very very very wrong. Not just a little wrong either, they have crossed into the threshold of violating something sacred in our house, and for the first time I saw my father loose his temper.He told them he was taking their gifts away, that they did not deserve them, and sent them to their rooms for the rest of the night. We had yet to open our gifts, as this was something for after dinner time to do all of us together.

I remember thinking the world had turned upside down, because all was far from being right in our perfect fantasy world my father worked so hard to create for us. I too went to my room, even though I had not done anything wrong, because I was upset about such a turn of events, and all the house was tense because of my father loosing his temper. So I went into my room and cried.

As I cried I kept thinking, this is not happy, nor a celebration, without my brother or sister to share in my happiness. So I went into my fathers room and told him how much I loved him, and how much I thanked him for thinking of me on his trip, but could he please take away my gift too? I no longer wanted it, because no one would be able to share in my happiness, and that was the only real goodness that came from opening a gift, that others could share happiness with you.

Later that night, my father came into my room, he was crying, and he sat me down and told me how sorry he was, and that he had been the one who was wrong for ever loosing his temper. He told me he would make it up to me tommorow because of the lateness of the hour, but that he was not taking away the gifts of my brother and sister. We would all have them.

The next day came and indeed we opened our gifts, and celebrated life, and my fathers return, as it should have been celebrated. I do not remember what he bought for me, the gift itself never mattered to me, only the fact I knew I had my fathers love.

I was a strange child perhaps, because I never got into trouble much, never did things to lessen how my father saw me. I remember the first time he told me he was proud of me, and how much I wanted to hear those words again, so I did the things that would make him want to say those words, and he never held that back from me, he told me frequently how proud he was of me. My brother and sister never cared much about pleasing him, but if my father felt like it was his job to make sure no evil thing could touch us, I knew it was my job to make him happy.

When I got older I did go through a rebellious phase, but oddly that had little to do with rebelling against my father, and everything to do with rebelling against my mother. I quickly outgrew it at any rate.

Whenever I was scared it was his arms I ran to, in his arms the world was a beautiful place. No there was no sickness or wrong in any of it, nothing impure ever touched the love we had for one another. My father was not that kind of person. On rare occasions, when he was home at the right time, we would curl up together and watch a particular tv show, it was the only time I remember watching television. But he would put his arms around me and I would lay my head on his chest and together we would dream of strange and wonderful things.
Even as an adult I still wanted that oasis of peace his arms would bring, and once, when I was 16, I was afraid, and I packed my son up and went to my fathers house in the middle of the night, and slept in between my mother and my father. (lol, yes, I woke them up for this!)

That was not the last time I lay in the arms of my father, but that time I was the bringer of peace, as well as the receiver. Although perhaps it was always that way too. That time was when he was dying. I was blessed indeed to have the last days of my fathers life spent by his side, asking forgiveness for the things I had done wrong, and receiving it from him.

I remember once I was angry at my mother for not treating my father with the respect I felt he deserved, I had been a bit older then, and she said something to the effect of why should she? And I reminded her of how hard my father worked so that we could have such a life, and she told me then it was for him that he did all this, never for us.

Perhaps he did need the oasis of peace as much as he felt we did. But if the divine has a heart I saw its reflection in the heart of my father, through the window of his eyes. Through the most difficult trials in my life that later i faced, in my mind I could always go back to that oasis, and knew that somewhere in the universe the divine truely did live. It brought me through hard times indeed, and helped give me strength when I was faced with evil in this world.

Hopefully if any part of it was for him, he got to do that too, go back in his mind to the oasis he created, and help him to face the evil he had to face. Hopefully, in my arms, he too could have hope in the divine, and hopefully he felt like it all had meaning.

He was a warrior you see, he fought so I could know peace, once I had done something when I was older, and he told me, "I fight so that we can have peace, and my God we are having it if it kills me!" (
) But he did not want me to know what he did, maybe because I am the only person in this world who saw him for what he really was, because I alone saw into his soul, and it was a pure soul indeed.

And that is exactly how he should be remembered, because that is who he really was, mistakes or not.

edit on 19-7-2012 by OpinionatedB because: (no reason given)

posted on Jul, 19 2012 @ 07:41 AM
I want to thank Nenothtu and Beezer, because yesterday I saw the reflection of my father in their eyes. And I remembered just what it was all for. I admit to feeling adrift and without anchor after his death, and for a while I forgot the purpose of my life.

But they reminded me, and my father taught me, that there is evil in this world, but it never has to touch us, or enter our hearts. That we can, nay should, rise above it all, and be something better than this world.

My purpose is for the Truth, and my responsibility, is to shun all that is evil, or unjust. No matter what.

My weapon, is my pen.

Thank you both, all my love to you.

posted on Jul, 19 2012 @ 07:38 PM
reply to post by OpinionatedB

There is no greater love in the whole multiverse than that of the love of a daughter for her father, and that of his love for her.

You've brought memories back. Thank you. Such beautiful words.

posted on Jul, 28 2012 @ 03:15 AM
You already had a kid at 16?
Your father's greatness is now questionable.

That was my a-hole response.

Sounds like a great father. Glad you had that bond. It's certainly unique nowadays.
edit on 28-7-2012 by TheLegend because: (no reason given)

new topics

top topics

log in