Growing up, I used to think that family meant blood. You know blood, right? There's no separating it from itself. I used to think that a father doesn't only cheer his children, pride them in everyone's face and shower them with praises. I used to think that he doesn't only provide for them, but that he also cautions. Cautions his children when they go wrong. Spank, spank, if necessary. I didn't think that a father, on finding out that his beloved child robs people, rapes, gambles and even murders, denies him a benefit of doubt. I didn't think that he would slam the door shut to the very face whose forehead he once kissed. I didn't think he could become forever deaf to the incessant sounds of palms banging the door, begging to be held and heard. Where went all the love? Was it a farce?
Now, I seek to understand, what does "ties" really mean? This thing called family and friendship. What does it mean? Embracing me because you think I'm good and dumping me almost as soon? Why are people ever friends, family, if they can't say to each other, "Hey, I heard what you did. You messed up big time" How does one form and break these ties all by themselves? What fate then do we condemn the "bad" to? What if they wallow so because no one ever cared? Because every other person dumped them and moved on? Again, what if they aren't really so bad? What if all they needed was to be heard...but no one ever asked...No one.
And we wonder why people take their own lives...
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