Mohan is a family physician, film and TV aficionado, a keen bibliophile and an eclectic scribbler.
Resting in Peace
It has been a year since I saw you lying in the centre of the room, surrounded by wailing relatives and distressed mourners. I stepped in with my brothers either side of me, and I felt like I went into a bubble. The loud crying sounded muffled and my vision was blurred with whatever tears were left after the long, restless flight. I felt I was there but in another dimension.
You had always been a powerful presence. You always seemed like a giant to me, even after I grew taller than you. You walked with your head held high even after a hint of frailness struck you in the past years since we lost Mom. To see you laid down, tucked in a shroud, unmoving, undisturbed by the drama around you seemed absurd.
When I was little you hated noise. You loved your afternoon naps and we would be instructed to keep quiet for fear of waking you up. I learnt to play quietly, sat on the floor both feet against the wall, with marbles. You didn't believe in toys. You felt they were an expensive distraction from academic study. Occasionally a noise may escape and my heart will skip a beat. For there was nothing worse when I was young than the sound of your footfall. It raised my heartbeat, squeezed my throat and widened my pupils. For I knew what would happen.
Ssshhh. I wanted to say to the assembled mourners. Ssshhh, he is sleeping. Leave him alone. For if he wakes up, you'll all be in trouble.
But you weren't going to wake up, were you?
Deep, deep underneath the overwhelming grief and loss in my heart there is anger and frustration.
Dig deeper and there is still fear and confusion.
Underneath it all there is love and gratitude.
It has taken me a while to unearth the gratitude. I knew it was always there, buried under the debris of my childhood. Hiding under the broken confidence and fractured bones. Tangled among the violent nightmares that still recur. Floating among the murky waters of a childhood aching for a hug and not a belt.
This is what I have always tried to tell you, but you couldn't listen or understand even to the last minute of our fractured conversation over the phone as you went into the hospital.
Yes Dad. I miss you.
And Dad, I Thank you.
Let me try to tell you why.
“That anyone could father a child, but a real man chooses to be a dad.”
― J. Sterling
Mom always said you were delighted when I was born. You wanted a boy and you got one. The eldest son, the one who you could mould and shape and prepare for a bright future. I am not sure how long I enjoyed that level of attention as my memory begins when you and Mom left me with Grandma when you got a transfer. I was three, missing you both terribly. Grandma was kind, loving and my aunties took care of me.
When you and Mom came back it was with a brother for me. I felt a tad cheated although I was happy to see both of you again. But something had already changed. You decided the 'shaping and moulding' needs to start straight away as you didn't want me to 'turn lazy'. You were a strict disciplinarian. you had to move into Grandma's house temporarily.
I must have been five when you broke my tooth and gave me a hairline fracture in my leg. Grandma was not happy and told you I was only a little child and to leave me alone. You took offence and took us away to another house. You were driven by a keen sense of how parenting should be and how you knew better for your family. I soon learnt to run, hide or take it quietly. For I knew that if it wasn't me it would be mom and I didn't want her to suffer.
It took me a while to figure out your own experience of a childhood. You lost your Dad when you were twelve, lived in abject poverty and you and your brother were brought up by your single mother in a dire situation. You had to leave school early to go to work. You sacrificed college education to support your Mom and brother and arrived in Madras to get a job. For someone from the villages, it was an odyssey of bravery and determination.
when I later saw the scar on your leg where your mum had burnt you with a hot iron for some minor misdemeanour, I understood.
Thank you, Dad, for making that journey.
“I know, from the three visits I made to him, the blended composite of love and fear that exists only in a boy's notion of his father.”
― Donald Miller
All my childhood I lived in anxiety. A fear of verbal abuse, threats, repeated hints that if I didn't study well I will be good for nothing. I was anxious to please you and thankfully I was good at reading and performing. I never took pleasure in my good grades as you always told me I should do better.
You never realised that it wasn't because but despite all the violence that I read well at school. For both my brothers suffered in your hands and ended up hating academia. It was only when they were able to fly free, get encouraged and enjoy their own creativity and independence that they have become so much successful in their own merit.
You had ambition and drive, you only wanted the best for us. You knew if you had been to university you would've had better job and a better pay. We never owned a house and lived always in a series rented houses with literally two rooms. There never was any privacy or luxury. We all slept on the floor and read by candlelight due to frequent power cuts. You wanted us to have a better life. You perhaps thought casting fear and violence will push us that bit further. You perhaps didn't know there were other ways of encouraging, rewarding, praising and loving.
But Dad, You fed my natural love of language by guiding me to a big dictionary and a book on vocabulary. I lapped them both up. My love of reading sprung from mom's passion for the written word and your push to enlarge my vocabulary. You made me read the newspaper and expand my knowledge of the world. You were a constant source of comics to read.
After every 'unpleasant' incident you will take me to watch a ( usually English) film. For you loved the Westerns and the James Bond action films - and I was your silent companion to the Cinema. Silly though it may sound, soon when my bones got numb and my pain threshold went higher, I was looking forward to the treats!
Thank you, Dad for your help making me fall in love with this language I am writing in.
- And I will always Love you - a Memory
There is a song that reminds me of my mother. The song that usually makes me cry hopelessly, every time I hear it on the radio. I have it on my iTunes playlist and as I scroll past the song title, I hesitate to click , knowing very well I am going to
I overheard you say to someone at your office how proud you were when I went into medical school. I wished you'd tell me directly.
The first time you hugged me and wished me well was when I was at the airport leaving for UK for higher studies. It was an awkward, clumsy hug. I held on. It meant a lot to me.
Years later, I came back to visit, you showed me little notebooks of stories that I had written and you had saved from my school days. You showed me how you had taken my poems to show your friends. I asked you why you didn't tell me and you said you didn't want me to get cocky.
Thank you Dad, for appreciating my creativity in your own way.
Thanks to you, your three sons are very close. We shared a common journey, went through the common rebellion and hatred for our past, and united in a common act of forgiveness and understanding. We wish things could have been different, but we know we can't change our past.
Thanks to you, I am still driven and ambitious with a crippling sense of insufficiency. I wish I could enjoy my successes a bit more, but it may take a little bit longer.
Thanks to you, I approach my own fatherhood with trepidation and reflection. I want to inspire without instilling fear, love unconditionally, give generously so my children can enjoy a happy childhood, yet challenge sufficiently that they are also driven towards excellence.
Thanks for giving your blessing to my children and showing them kindness.
Thanks for looking after mom when she fell ill. While it may have come late, your care and affection kept mom happy and safe and made her forget your past excesses.
Thanks for being happy when I was able to buy you and mom your own place to live. You loved that place, the very place where I came back to find you sleeping.
Don't Let go...
I wish we had talked more. Talked deeper. You still had little trust in my maturity and understanding and preferred not to listen. Perhaps you thought I would dredge up the past and point accusing fingers.
All I wanted to tell you all along is this thank you. I am sure you're listening and I am sure you understand that I understand.
I still remember the way you held my little finger as we walked the dusty streets of Madras towards that crowded cinema. The way it felt safe.
Thank you, Dad.
Don't let go.
© 2012 Mohan Kumar
Daisy Mariposa from Orange County (Southern California) on June 14, 2014:
I returned to read your outstanding Hub another time, to share it with my HubPages followers, post the link in a Facebook group and on Google+, and tweet it.
Happy Father's Day, my friend.
Linda Bilyeu from Orlando, FL on June 16, 2013:
Hugs to you Docmo. Your tribute to your dad is beautiful. Happy Father's Day to you!
Dianna Mendez on June 16, 2013:
I remember reading your post awhile back and how it reminded me of my father's silent love for his kids. I wanted to stop in to leave a comment of thanks for sharing and reminding me love covers all. Blessings, dear friend.
Mary Hyatt from Florida on June 16, 2013:
I enjoyed your tribute to your Father by this letter. I'm glad you understood as you grew older his intentions were good; just his method was not so good.
I was loved dearly by my Father, and quite spoiled. Maybe if he had been a little tougher on me, I would have gone further in life, who knows???
Voted UP, etc.
Gypsy Rose Lee from Daytona Beach, Florida on June 16, 2013:
This is just so wonderful. A great tribute to your dad.
Suzette Walker from Taos, NM on June 16, 2013:
This is a beautiful tribute to your father. All parents make mistakes in raising their children. You have to look at the big picture and it seems you did here. Your father is very fortunate to have you as a son and you are fortunate to have him as a father. My mother was quite abusive to my sister and I when we were young, so I understand where you are coming from. It was my father who was the wise, loving, gentle parent. Such is life. Happy Father's Day to you.
Vickiw on January 16, 2013:
This is a lovely, and very touching article. You have transcended your early childhood experiences and chosen a different path. As you have shown, you never forget, but with help you are able to incorporate them into your present life, as you seem to have managed. This is a huge achievement. A very special Hub, and thank you for sharing your experiences and feelings with us.
Van on December 09, 2012:
Mohan, A truly touching piece...Looks like your dad might have been very tough and stern but still wanted the best for his children.Beautifully written.
Liz Rayen from California on December 06, 2012:
Mohan, This was truly moving and so heartfelt. It brought me to tears remembering the loss of my father. I experienced a different loss and pain throughout my years with my father, only to have him close for such a short time and then taken away from me. I can only begin to feel what you went through, only to understand and weep with you. Very well done. Thank you for sharing this intimate time in your life with us. Voted up and shared throughout! ♥
Louisa Rogers from Eureka, California and Guanajuato, Mexico on November 30, 2012:
Mohan, it touches me deeply that you were able to accept your dad despite the fear you lived with throughout your childhood. I find it moving too that reading became your refuge. How creative children are! Thank you! Voted up and awesome
QudsiaP1 on November 25, 2012:
Docmo you are a freed soul; you allowed that inner anguish; all that torment; all the pain to flow within your words where you could come to be at peace. Any one with abusive family knows your pain. You are strong; well done.
Sueswan on November 24, 2012:
I am overwhelmed with emotions.
To err is human, to forgive is divine".
The cycle of abuse is usually carried from one generation to other. I think by accepting that your father was human and made mistakes and choosing to forgive him broke the cycle.
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@Mary- I'm deeply indebted to your constant appreciation of my humble hackery. Your words mean a lot, thank you. Hugs.
@Amy- I know how much you too have endured. I'm glad to have been abel to share this here and it is nice to see you here with your wise words of support and understanding. Much love.
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@billybuc- you don't have to say much, Sir Bill, from your own journey and writing I understand that you'll understand. and I thank you deeply for it.
@btrbell- thank you so much for your kind words. It does mean a lot for me.
@dear drbj, thank you for your constant source of appreciation. Now you know why I appreciate feedback especially the positive kind. I'm always indebted to your constant and consistent support.
@Faith Reaper- thank you very much for your words of solace and support. I really appreciate your visit here and your words.
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@bmalin- thank you Barbara, yes it has been a long journey and it is nice to take stock and clear away the cobwebs for a better tomorrow. appreciate your visit and comments.
@Dotti- much appreciated, my friend. You are always so wonderful with your comments and understanding. I'm deeply honoured.
@Ruby- Thank you so much dear friend. I'm sorry to make people upset over my story.. it has taken me a while to share it in a public forum and couldn't do it before. Appreciate your visit and comments.
@Paula- you don't have to say much. From what I know of you, read of you- you are warm, compassionate and deeply understanding of others. I'm proud to be your friend. thank you!
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@Martie- thank you so much. I'm so lucky to have such understanding and supportive friends in this community. I wouldn't have dared to write this in any other forum for fear of ridicule or misunderstanding. I was confident our group will 'get' what I'm trying to.. and boy how they did. And you, Martie, is such a rock of support and compassion. thank you.
@Mickey- I admire your courage and dedication to this task- and yes.. it is 'almost' like some strikingly clever fellow is orchestrating this whole exercise on Perspectives, isn't it?
@sha- thank you so much , dear friend. I'm grateful for your support and understanding. I do love that song.
@Richard- thank you for your kind words. Yes, I know how much my Dad loved us all and how he realised gradually perhaps his approach was not the best way to inculcate ambition and drive. He was filled with regret and sadly he couldn't always express it well. We love him for all that he provided for us.
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@Pamela- Thank you very much. Repeating old patterns sadly seems ot be a common theme in many I know. I'm glad that many break free and learn to be different. I certainly strive to do that - it isn't always easy and takes a lot of insight and change of attitudes...
@Janine- thank you for all your support. I knew as I was writing this it was going to be a tough read for many... I didn't want to gloss over facts not did I want it to be a relentless assault of senses. Really appreciate your comment.
@Ishwaryaa- you are right- there are so many of my father's generation and even subsequently who have resorted to stringent forms of discipline and violence in India as it used to be in Dickensian times in UK .. thankfully perceptions are changing for the better.
@lrc7815- thank you very much. I agree about my Dad's own demons and how they tainted his understanding of expressing love. He seemed always bewildered that his approach wasn't appreciated... we tried to explain to him that terrorising young minds is not a recipe for success and happiness. Appreciate your comments.
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@Leslie: It was great you could join us in this perspective. I'm humbled at the response and understanding shown by my friends. It's something I had to share even though it was a very difficult one to write.
@Daisy- thank you my friend. I hadn't written anything from August last year when my Dad fell ill until January this year when I came back after the bereavement. I feel like I've come a full circle this november.
@Melovy- Thank you so much. I'm humbled that so many have read and understood the journey. Thank you for your kind words.
@Maria- the same things that cause us pain also give us immeasurable strength and courage and thankfully an understanding into the human condition. I adore your courage, fellow traveller. I'm honoured to be with friends such as you. Hugs.
Mohan Kumar (author) from UK on November 18, 2012:
@Dana : thank you so much. It was a hard write and despite all the pain and perception of being unloved, I've grown to understand what drove my Dad. Sometimes it is hard to see clearly when blinded by ambition and fear of failure ... I'm fortunate in trying not to repeat a cycle of violence. I know so many of us have endured and may still endure such unspeakable things. My heart goes out to all.
@Sunshine... thank you. It was intense to write this and there were so many moments when I felt raw and exposed. I'm glad I was able to share this but by no means my gratitude means condoning such acts.
@mcbirdsbks: thank you for understanding. Pining over a better past or reeling from the darkness is not a path I chose. It has been a difficult climb in so many ways, but the view - the perspective - from here is much better!
@Nithya- you are so right! I knew he was incapable of being able to show his love apart from the ways he was exposed to. I'm glad I was able to see past that and perhaps learn from that. your visit and comments much appreciated.
Amy Becherer from St. Louis, MO on November 17, 2012:
When I was a young person, I was acutely aware of my own pain. When I grew up, I realized that everyone carries the weight of baggage, not excluding those we trust the most. When I was able to stand outside my own childish sense of unfairness and anger, I finally understood at gut level, that the pain my parents suffered growing up during The Great Depression was an anchor that weighted their ways. And, the burdens their parents carried from their childhoods added to the weight they carried through life. And so it goes...
I have an acquaintance, well into middle-age, who still bemoans his childhood, blaming it for his adult failures. Although he is exquisitely sensitive to his own feelings regarding his life, he missed my point when I told him that all offspring need to extend that same sensitivity to the human beings we call parents. We are challenged, hurt, and impacted by our parents, yet, we are loved by them like no one else can. We can understand, like you, Mohan, and use our experiences to be the unconditionally loving parents we longed for, although I believe in the wisdom of "we don't always get what we want, but, sometimes, we get what we need." I, like you, came to recognize the human frailty that exists in everyone of us. My parents gave me life. Life is never perfect, yet, my parents, like yours, gave the best they had, given their own set of circumstances.
Beautifully said, loving tribute to your beloved father, Docmo. I am positive that he knows beyond any words. It is a great comfort, to know in the core of your being, that despite everything else, at the heart of the matter, lives love.
Mary Craig from New York on November 17, 2012:
And reading this makes me admire you that much more. Not everyone could understand the hurt and pain brought on by love, not everyone could handle the lack of emotion shown to a child....yet, you did. You never lost love or respect and became a man your mother and father were very proud of....they knew your love and loved you back.
This is very emotional and makes me feel like I want to give you a hub and say, "you did a wonderful job", both in life and in this lovely letter.
Voted up, useful, awesome, beautiful, and interesting. God bless.
Faith Reaper from southern USA on November 16, 2012:
What a great outpouring of your heart here ---so revealing and I surely can relate to not making too much noise to bother dad. It is so heartwarming that you have written about this and the peace you now have is evident.
I can picture you as a dad now, giving plenty of hugs and telling your children directly just how proud you are of them all.
You are a good son no doubt dear one.
God bless. In His Love, Faith Reaper
drbj and sherry from south Florida on November 16, 2012:
You already know how much I admire your talent for making your hubs come alive with detail, creativity and imagination. Now I have learned some of what you endured to get to this point in your life. You have grown to be a man, a father who understands that encouragement, not punishment will guide your children.
I regret the difficulties you encountered growing up but you are a survivor - a brilliant doctor and writer and an understanding husband and father.
Your own father could not wish for more for his eldest son. And would be proud of this tribute. Perhaps he knows. Blessings.
Randi Benlulu from Mesa, AZ on November 16, 2012:
Oh my goodness, I started this with chills just feeling the pain of losing a parent. I kept reading and ended this in full out tears. My heart is shattered for you. The choice of music could not have been more appropriate. You are an amazing man. I applaud you and I am so happy that you have found a way to make peace with this. Up, awesome, beautiful. Thank you for sharing!
Bill Holland from Olympia, WA on November 16, 2012:
I simply don't have the words, Doc! No matter what I write it will seem inadequate. Bless you my friend; you have done so very well with this song of love, respect, and healing.
Ruby Jean Richert from Southern Illinois on November 16, 2012:
Omg, This makes me weep. Why can't people love in the right way? Why must we be grown to tell them, when inside we are still little children only wanting love and acceptance? I knew you had a story to tell. I felt that in every writing. You've come a long way baby and have so much more to give. You have a talent that is real and makes all who read you happy and blessed. Thank you Doc. God's blessings...
Suzie from Carson City on November 16, 2012:
I haven't the appropriate words, at this moment, Mohan......afraid I am unable to explain the overwhelming emotions I am feeling. This is both heart-wrenching and inspirational. You must realize how very moving your words are, as they came spilling from the very core of your being.
The forgiveness and understanding you speak of, are blessed gifts you chose to embrace, not only for your father, but for yourself and your own precious children.
You are an amazing man. One I am honored to know............
D. Juris-stetser on November 16, 2012:
Voting Up, Beautiful, Awesome, Interesting, and add touching and heart-breaking at times. I can truly relate to the experiences of your childhood, Mohan...and what a wonderful and successful man you've made of yourself - truly a self-made man....reading this, I just wanted to hug you and tell you how amazing you are...wonderfully written. Dotti
b. Malin on November 16, 2012:
Hi Docmo, OMG, what a Childhood you had, and yet you have grown into a Wonderful Husband and father. A Long Journey... Your Dad, had his problems, and obviously took them out on his children. I too did not have a Happy Childhood, and maybe as Adults, it makes us Stronger and Wiser.
A very moving, Hub, which I'm sure, turned out to be very Therapeutic for you to write and share. You've touched all of us today.
Rich from Kentucky on November 16, 2012:
What an emotionally filled journey into your childhood you've shared. Your father was obviously a stern man, but one that felt true love and was willing to go beyond the norm to ensure a better life for his children.
I'm sure he's smiling from above, whispering, "I love you, son" as this is read by each of us. Bless you and him both, my friend!
Shauna L Bowling from Central Florida on November 16, 2012:
Doc, as they say, 'every dark cloud has a silver lining'. When I began reading your journey, my heart bled for you and I wondered why you were thanking someone who mistreated you so. Then I understood you and your strength of soul. I now understand. I admire your strength and conviction. I honor the person you are and the compassion you show all. I'm sure that has everything to do with your decision to become a doctor. That and because you wish to heal, not bring harm.
Very powerful hub, Doc. Your choice of song is so appropos. I've always loved Cat Stevens and this song in particular. I heard it from a deeper perspective today. Thank you, my friend.
MickeySr from Hershey, Pa. on November 16, 2012:
Docmo, we were both kind of coming from the same place on this one - but produced quite different hubs . . . that's 'Perspectives:'. You are just right for this, the group we have provides such an interesting array of 'Perspectives:' each month . . . it's almost as if some strikingly clever fellow was behind the scenes orchestrating this to all fall out just as he planned . . ?
Martie Coetser from South Africa on November 16, 2012:
Oh, what a beautiful, heart-touching take on gratitude! And so sad, Docmo, that was the norm. Parents, especially fathers, believed that they were supposed to be hard and strict - cruel to be kind. We have to forgive them, because they really did know that they were hurting us so badly and even damaged our souls, sending us with painful scars into adulthood.
But look at you, in spite of, despite all the childhood suffering, you are today a most respectable man and father, not repeating the wrongs that were done to you.
I know what it is like to FEEL unloved and not recognized by one's parents. Yet, I know our parents - mine as well as yours - did love their children with all of their hearts. And you, too, know this, and that is why you were/are so able to forgive and live with an attitude of gratitude. I think it is so much harder for those who know that they were not loved at all.
Maybe I've said too much - I always do - but this heart-wrenching tribute to your father pulled my tears and words.
Good to know you, Docmo! Just wait until I've shed all my tears because we are living in an imperfect world, very much like lost ants trying to build a safe haven in the land of ant-eaters, then I'll sing Baby Tjoklits songs again. After all, we are survivors and more - we are winners.
Excellent, heart-touching hub! (Bookmarking 'And I will always love you' for another day.)
Linda Crist from Central Virginia on November 16, 2012:
Docmo, this is beautiful, as so many others have said. It takes a man of character to forgive past hurts and find the value in the person that inflicted the pain. As you have come to understand, your father had his own past with his own demons that made him the man he was. It is easy to forget that our parents have their own struggles and are no more perfect that we are. I have no doubt that your Dad loved you deeply and, that he knew you loved him as well. It is written here in every word.
Ishwaryaa Dhandapani from Chennai, India on November 16, 2012:
A beautiful hub! I could feel your feelings through this touching letter to your father. You are who you are today because of your father inspite of his stern ways. Your father wanted you & your brothers to be so much better than him in every way - this is common and natural for many fathers to feel that their children should get the best in life. No doubt that your father already listened and understood. May his soul rest in peace always. Thank you for sharing with me and many others
Janine Huldie from New York, New York on November 16, 2012:
Docmo, I was practically crying by the end. a beautiful and very touching tribute to your dad. I could relate, because growing up my dad too could be cold and harsh at times and I even feared he at moments, but as an adult I have learned not only did he love me, but also did certain things to motivate me to be better and stronger. So I can surely relate there. I truly enjoyed reading this though and thank you seriously for sharing a bit more of yourself here with us. I have voted up tons and shared all over as always!
Pamela Oglesby from Sunny Florida on November 16, 2012:
It is amazing how time gives us a new perspective on the events of our youth. The painful events and excessive violence are now okay, but often what we have to give is what we were taught. Some of us learn a better way, like you did, and some of us repeat old patterns. I think it is brave to open your heart to us all and share that time. Love is easier when we understand motivations and when we forgive. This is a very touching hub.
Maria Jordan from Jeffersonville PA on November 16, 2012:
You have written a poignant and tender letter to your Father who is absolutely aware of your love and gratitude for him.
I am guessing that our Dads would not at all have liked each other. You see I believe they would have recognized too much of themselves in the other.
To this day when I hear excessive noise in a home, I think of Mom asking us to keep it down before Dad would yell to show him some respect.
It was actually a wise therapist in 1999 who got me to journal my perspective, if you will...comparing my Dad to another man I thought I could never forgive. This man is in jail for murder and my attempted murder. It was a cathartic no-brainer that Dad loved all of us...
Your letter took extreme courage, insight and perceptiveness. With my heart, I know you so much better and I guarantee your kids one day will be writing you a letter so very very different in nature.
This is heart and soul gorgeous. My tears are flowing, so hoping this is coherent. Voted UP and UABI.
Big hugs, Maria
Yvonne Spence from UK on November 16, 2012:
Docmo, this brought tears to my eyes. This is powerful and I feel deep admiration for how you have not only overcome childhood abuse, but have found gratitude for your father. This shines such a beacon of courage and acceptance.
I wish you well in your journey to being able to enjoy your successes more and hope you are enjoying the comments here.
Daisy Mariposa from Orange County (Southern California) on November 15, 2012:
I know the past year has been a difficult one for you.
It was difficult writing the article about your mother's passing. It was exponentially more difficult writing this piece.
I admire your strength. I admire your understanding of your father. I admire your decision to return to writing after having taken six months off.
You are a winner, polymath.
Karen Silverman on November 15, 2012:
Mohan..this is very powerful stuff! It was very courageous of you to work through the shock, anger, confusion, and pain of sudden death - and come through to simple gratitude! How VERY lucky you were - for far too short a time...It was an honor to be a part of this group - and this is a topic very close to my heart...
Nithya Venkat from Dubai on November 15, 2012:
I read this and am so in awe of the love you have for your dad. A dad wants the very best for his son. They do not know how to show this and they do all that they can to make sure this happens in any which way. All a father holds is intense immeasurable love for his son.
mckbirdbks from Emerald Wells, Just off the crossroads,Texas on November 15, 2012:
Hello Docmo. This is completely gripping. Your message holds so much hope. Your children receive all the love they need because you recognise and are aware how important it is.
I sit here and think who each in our way spend so much time looking over our collective shoulders at a past that could of offered so much more.
You win, you have outrun your past.
Linda Bilyeu from Orlando, FL on November 15, 2012:
So very intense. I could relate to portions of your journey. I hope by you sharing with us it helped you heal a bit more, letters have a way of doing that for me. Sending you some sunshine! :)
Dana Strang from Ohio on November 15, 2012:
This is beautiful. It takes immeasureable strength and understanding and love to be able to thank a man that was a source of so much pain for you. You were able to see deeper than hurtftul parts of your father. You saw his love for you, even though he did not know how to show it in a traditional way. I do not condone what your father did. Abuse of any kind is not ok. All I can say is that, by having a verbally and emotionally abusive grandfather, I understand. I have never loved and hated one person so much in my life. Except for myself.... I am glad you were able to love your father in spite of what he put you and your family through. I hope you realize you make him proud every day. And you should be proud of yourself. Good for you for learning from your father, even if part of that was learning not to be like him.... Thank you for sharing this