It was my father's 107th heavenly birth day yesterday. As already reiterated it in this blog, he was born in 1919, the year of end of the WWI. Losing his parents early in his life, he has strived through the WWII era. Getting married to mother immediately after WWII, which had imposed him military duty and forced him to waste his precious time of youth, he finally built own family even in extreme poverty.
Recently, I have discussed with my brother, a psychiatrist, how we were raised by parents. We were really poor but, strangely enough, not conscious of that in young days. Maybe, my parents were living in a kind of ethos that there were something more important than economical wealth in our lives. It might have made us free from the sense of poverty in life. I am not boasting this. They have not left us anything of richness but only that attitude of living. I owe it to them, especially my father.
This photo has been posted before. The only family photo for possibly the golden wedding anniversary for my parents. Now all of us, their children, are as old as my parents at this time, 80, 77 and 72 resectively. May we go through the rest of our lives as they did.
For the past week or two, I have been working in the garden/farm. Sitting on a tiny chair and pulling the weeds, I often remember of my parents. I am keeping this propery as my parents used to decades ago. It is a small work but surely an honor to spend the last chapter of my life in this way.
Until we might see again like at this wedding anniversary.
No comments:
Post a Comment