A lady in the crowd
2015-08-11 05:02:39 (UTC)

My Arch Nemesis.

Ever since I was a child my mother spoke about my father with passionate hatred, "Listen closely, you NEVER call him your dad again! He doesn't even deserve the title of a father; Martin Chon is nothing more than a coward!" Therefore I developed, an impression that my father's main role is being an 'evil' arch nemesis. Boy I was sure wrong!

(Years later)

It was a long three hour journey to San Felipe. After searching for my grandmother's address for nearly half an hour we hit jack pot; at last, we were at Grannie's house! I yawned, stretched, and stepped foot on the ground. I slowly walked up to her small one-story home. I knocked on the doorknob and a curtain swiftly moved as I got a quick view of Grannie's face. Her eyes popped out of her sockets as she gave us a heartwarming smile. Grannie opened the door, her eyes filled with tears, as she embraced us and welcomed us into her home.

After eight years I reunited with family: Uncle Hector, Uncle Fernando, grandpa, grandma, and Martin Chon. We talked and shared laughter among our social circle in the living room. That is, until the front door swung wide open. Time slowed down and my heart melted, flopped, and turned. My pulse accelerated out of my chest and for a moment I couldn't catch my breath. All conversation went silent; my father stood their motionless while he stared at me. A huge lump developed in my throat, but I managed to swallow my left over saliva. I was about to say hello; but he seemed to read my mind. "Hi!" he exclaimed and awkwardly waved.

Right before me stood a man who suffered in poverty. He wore a worn out shirt, ripped jeans, and sandals that fit his swollen feet to small. He looked exhausted and ill. Age abused him well, since his health appears to stand on the edge of deterioration. I don't know why but I felt a sudden need to take care and help this old man. The grip on my grudge loosened as I decided to bury the hatchet; to leave all previous mistake's as forgotten.

~Yours Truly,