I realized something today.
I spent the bulk of my day sleeping because I stayed up a few days to work diligently on assignments and projects before the semester’s end. When I woke, I woke up to some bad news.
My bright little brother obtained an undesirable grade in a class he had been struggling with throughout the year. As the caring eldest brother, it was my responsibility to compose a proper method for improvement and enforce a form of punishment that would both increase his grade and decrease the odds of obtaining the same results in the future.
It was hard, let me tell you. I was reminded that fathers, or rather parents have some of the toughest jobs in the world.
You see, they have to make a very tough decision concerning their children at several point in their lives. Mothers too, I’m not trying to come across as sexist, but more often than not, it’s the fathers that have to make this sort of decision.
Often parents have to decide between doing what is best for their child or risk losing some of the love that child has for them.
They have to be the bad guy when the kid starts doing things they consider undesirable, like performing poorly in school.
Now don’t get me wrong, my brother is brilliant. He’s not failing all his classes, he’s just struggling with one. I don’t mean to misinform you or anyone else.
So here I am, attempting to recall what good ‘ol dad would have done. I would have been scolded pretty heavily, had all my privileges revoked, and possibly suffer some physical injury.
These punishments, they made me hate him. I wasn’t a bad kid by any means, in fact growing up, I was pretty easily managed. I got the grades, I exercised routinely, and stayed out of trouble. But whenever I fell out of the plan my father envisioned, I’d be forced back into place.
I resented him for it. Sometimes it was painful, other times unfair, most times it was just long drawn out lectures, reciting about one or two key details he wanted to drive home.
I realized that at some point in his life, he made the conscious decision of becoming the bad guy for my benefit. He didn’t care if I lost respect or love for him, he only cared about doing what had to be done, so that I would one day benefit from it later in life.
It takes some fucking guts. That child, those kids, they’re probably their most beloved thing in the universe, but because they care more about their well being, they give up what good relation you could have had, for proper guidance.
You know how parents always say, “You’ll thank me for it later”? Well they’re not just talking out of their ass. You really will thank them for it.
And after you muster up the courage to personally thank them for all that they’ve done for you, you’ll get the chance to reconnect with one another.
My father wasn’t perfect, people rarely are, but he taught me to value the right things and I love him for that.
Oh, what did I do about my brother? I beat his ass!
I’m totally kidding.I wasn’t ready to have my own brother hate me, as his actions didn’t call for that. I simply devised a strict schedule that he has to maintain, cut down his computer usage, and factored in some time for reflection and studies.
You will thank me for it dear brother. And when you find the courage to do so, I’ll be waiting.