Even Hercules was Mortal

As a child I looked up to my Dad on the same plane as a King or Hercules. He was my hero. “My Dad could beat up your Dad” was something I’d often tout to my friends. Sadly, as I grew older, it seemed my Dad went from an invincible, mythologized figure to a middle aged man who suffers the same problems like all other mere mortals. I’d say my respect for him went down, as did my confidence in myself. In a way, his failures became my worst fears. Through his experiences I saw dreams made, and while some were achieved, some weren’t, and some were lost. I guess it was a humbling realization. It may sound depressing but I don’t see it in that way. No, I’m not a downer. I’m aware I’m sounding like some miserable nihilist at the moment. But I’m definitely not. I’ve always had this belief that I am capable of making things right or that even if things don’t look great at the moment I somehow always land on both feet. Not to say that things will land on my lap out of nowhere. Anything that I have achieved or hope to ever achieve has, and will always, come through hard work. I guess what I’m trying to say is that as a kid, I imagined my Dad as this larger-than-life figure who had all the answers in life and was never scared of anything. But as I grew older I realized he was only human like the rest of us and he too has his fair share of fears. Yet, I actually find it reassuring to realize he doesn’t have all the answers, and that actually, nobody does, so I don’t feel quite alone. Despite all this, I still look up to him and have respect for him and learn from him. But, I find I learn more from his mistakes and failures than anything else. That’s just how I see things in all aspects of life. Perhaps that explains why I like reading about people who endured impoverished and unfortunate circumstances. I expect to learn more from stories of those who overcome adversity.

Bedtime Stories

It’s funny, kids reach a certain age when it suddenly becomes un-cool to hug or kiss their parents. I remember there was a period when I wouldn’t kiss my Dad anymore, so if we were to ever part for an extended length of time and say our goodbyes, he’d say “What? You too old to give your old man a kiss?” I’d go all red, shuffle my feet and just give him a reluctant hug. My Dad usually had a beard or moustache when I was a child. Whenever I’d be tucked into bed and kissed goodnight, I’d always squirm and laugh at the touch of his prickly beard against my cheek. Hmm, that was a very random thought.