Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Hope floats

My father is a good man.

He has led a long and tiresome life, much of a it a roller coaster ride, but over all, he has been good. Whatever little I know of his past, for I wish not to probe, I see he has gone through a lot and has become a man commanding great respect. He has wronged though, but then again, who hasn't.

I, for one, feel immense provide of having come from him. For whatever my father is, if I am even an iota of that, I shall feel satisfied. Though I shall pray to the Lord I so believe in, I hope He may not give me suffering as he has to him. But hasn't He made a man of great character? Of immense spirit? One cannot argue.

My mother, she's one of a kind.

Words fail me, for like the great saints say, the Truth is indescribable, and can only be sought through indicators. My mother is a woman of great substance. A tall tower of strength. It often amazes me how so much can be packaged in a petite silhouette.

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