it took time for me to decide whether or not to publish this...then i remembered how she did, regarding her story, and thought "fuck it...". So, here it goes

In activism & the chit-chat between and with activists, especially the veterans or those directly related to them, you would always expect to hear stories of hardships, torture, prison…etc

However, God is fair, even if we can't see it with our vision at the moment; because for every war one is destined to wage on a front, you'd find that the other fronts are exceptionally peaceful or at least calm
A friend, activist and of a family with history in activism, was telling me about a bit of her life when she was conceived and grew up and the love between her parents…

It was beautiful to listen to her stories about such love existing in a life full of turmoil and hardships such as her parents'…and at the same time, it felt as if she's talking about a feeling I'm dead scared of facing or never felt before: and that was love, especially between one and their parents

I couldn't describe how it felt hearing her go about the amount of love she felt & had early in her life, despite the hardships, till recently when I finally told her "[..] I felt scared, listening to you"

My Story

Growing up in a house of 2 doctors, one of them from a very modest/poor background, all their attention and effort was focused into making sure there was nothing we need that they couldn't afford

I was a difficult child to handle; curious, hyper-active, smart & witty and careful. It required great self-control and awareness to be able to contain & deal with me…or just beat the living crap out of me, which was the easier & popular choice to most

Not only was my dad the boogey-man, thanks to his palm that I got acquainted with more than once at critical proximity, but also my mom & grandma made sure I remember how my dad can hurt & beat me should I behave in any fashion that displeases them (especially grandma; it was close to a hobby)

It's always as vivid as ever; me fidgeting about something, mom/grandma/both warning me: "stop it or we'll tell your dad!"…which was enough for me to beg "khalas ! (Okay, just don't do that)

Other kids feared the boogey-man, the ghoul lady…but they ain't got shit on my dad, no sir!

…and I had the nerve to expect to be able to love & receive love; I, who honestly and fully believed that my dad is capable of killing me if I displease him & that my mother and grandma have no problem to actually make him do so

On paper, my life was grand; good grades, good schools, academically achieving parents, improving financial position…what more can one wish for, eh?

I'll tell you:

Some tolerance to understand that it wasn't my intention to break something in order to make you mad or suffer financial losses…I honestly didn't mean to and beating me isn't gonna bring it back.

A hug, a smile and little attention that is simply out of the fact that I need it; not as an exchange of good grades or good actions

Some maturity to realize that the nice toys & clothes you so diligently worked hard to bring me won't love me as I need you to and that I'd gladly give them away and more for some time with you…as a son.

A little more than money & having my financial needs met; a family…in the emotional sense

A Fair Payback

I thought about it more than once…and it occurred to me a while ago to respond in the same way when the time comes;

I imagined my time to take care of THEM and giving them all the luxury one could ask for; a calm country-house with all possible facilities and servants…and almost never seeing them.

And my response to why I don't visit much would be the same; busy providing for your needs and wants.

I thought of forgiveness…but that requires love; and I just don't how to do that, sorry.

Finally

It may seem menial, little and by far the least important or tragic issue on almost all scales… but this is my life's issue & tragedy, simply.

Like I said; I found God to be fair in ways usually beyond our vision; those whose parents faced imprisonment and torture were able to give them love but they had to fight for stability and a touch of a "normal life" in the middle of trips between prisons and police crackdowns.

I have the opposite, or at least a different, story… but I'm willing to bet we're all affected & touched just the same