"Lies my Father Told Me" is a book written by Ted Allan in 1949, and was made into a movie in 1975. It tells the story of a 6-year old boy who was torn between the love for his grandfather and love-hate relationship with his father.
They say that children gets attached to their grandparents because they have a common enemy. Funny, but true, since grandparents have the tendency to spoil their grandchildren while parents have the harder time in disciplining them later. What you can't get from your parents, your grandparents give. And in a way, I found this out to be true. Spending my pre-school years with my grandparents, I have a big farm as playground. When I was to enroll in the first grade, my parents took me to the city and kept me in a room slightly bigger than our outhouse and I was not allowed to play outside. It was like a prison so what used to be a very obedient child to my grandparents became a hard-headed imp.
School became a haven and although my father took me to see movies on weekends, our father-son relationship never approximate my closeness to my grandfather. My elder sisters were not very fond of me, and I was usually confined at home doing houseworks and watching TV. They usually play outside, but once they are home they lord over what TV programs to see. I have to get up at 5 a.m. so I could watch Laurel and Hardy, The 3 Stooges, and My Favorite Martian, in that order before going to school.
Things changed a bit when we transferred to our own home after grade school. My mother, being the only child, was able to convince my grandparents to sell their farm so we could build our own apartment. They obliged, but living under one roof became intolerable with my grandfather always running into conflict with my father, that my grandparents later asked to live in one of the apartment units. I tried to get close to my father helping him with our fruit business but we never really blended well working together. Then one day, after graduating from high school, I decided not to go to college and instead found work in an aluminum manufacturing company.
I hated being at home, working overtime everyday including weekends so home was just a place for me to sleep. I avoided holidays with the family, doing overtime even on Christmas, New Year, and even on Lenten season. The more I work, the farther I feel away from home. When not working, I spend my time with my grandparents. I got to become furnace operator only after 6 months but remained one the next 18 months cause of my lack of education. So with no more promotion on site, I decided to go back to school and become an engineer.
My relationship with my father never really improved but this he tried to control his temper more so we got along just fine. I was the eldest of 5 brothers after 3 elder sisters, and I got more share of house works - cleaning, laundry, taking care of our business, and playing big brother to my two youngest brothers - the real go-to-guy at home. The arrangement was fine with me since I did like to always keep myself busy and I got spoiled a bit by my parents, and also my grandparents for running errands for them.
After my grandparents died, a few years after I graduated from college and then working for a government utility company, my parents, and 3 younger brothers migrated to Canada. Then later, another brother and a sister, with her family followed, leaving only me and my family in our home country. My mother fell ill due to renal failure and was pronounced to live only on borrowed time. I tried to apply for a visit but an "urgent" letter from my mother pleading the consul to allow me to visit her before she dies came six months too late. I could not answer the consul why it took that long for an urgent letter to arrive, so I got turned down. From then on, I decided to move on and worry no longer about setting my sight on a foreign soil.
My mother lived on for 8 more years, but my father could not wait for her, so 6 years into her illness he decided to pay me a visit to bridge the gap between us. It was just a short visit, we did not talk much for Dad has always have trouble finding words to say, but such little time with us endeared him to the kids and healed whatever what was between us. Her was unsure if there would be life for him after Mom dies and he just wanted some time with us.
Mom died 2 years after Dad's visit. He came back to fulfill the dying wish of my mother that her ashes be buried with her parents. He knew that life alone would be different without Mom and at his advanced age, he also knew that he would be a bother to my siblings. So he he sought for a younger bride, someone who would take of him once his health start to fail. But my elder sisters would have none of it. The arrangement with his bride failed and he now lives in a retirement condominium waiting for the inevitable.
I worry not for I know there is nothing I could do, not even maybe to visit him in his last moments. But I feel no regret - I have done more than my share of obligations as a son to them in my younger years. I may have been misunderstood for I feel that it would be better for me and them to bury my version of truth and leave things be as they are. No use rocking the boat when everybody else is enjoying the view, for one thing I am sure of, when Dad is gone, some ties will really be broken.
At least now I know, the harsh words he uttered then, were but lies that was only said 'cause of anger and misunderstanding. He was proud of having me as a son ...and it was all that mattered to me then.
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