A grim-faced girl who is waving her hands violently to get a taxi on streets. Her red face was soaked with tears continuously falling down. Because she couldn't breathe properly, she had to keep making weird noise trying to breathe. Everybody passing her by was glancing at her wondering what is wrong with her. Some of them might have wondered whether they should help her, but they could not get close to her easily because she seemed to be out of mind. She seemed literally crazy.
This was how I looked when I heard that dad collapsed and was rushed to the emergency room from mom on the phone. Because she told me that I should keep it secret from my little sister, I had to suppress my surprise in house and burst into tears on streets, getting taxi to go to a hospital dad's in.
"God, please secure him."
In a taxi, I kept praying to god wishing him to be safe. I wished it was a slight sickness.
"Mom! Is he okay? Can I see him?"
I asked mom the moment I saw her face.
"No, you can't. He is an intensive care unit where visit hours are restricted."
I felt my heart sinks suddenly. If he is in an intensive care unit, he must be sick seriously.
Mom, who was also going through hard time (but not trying to show it to her daughter), seemed not to be able to describe what happened to him exactly.
So I had no choice but to get out of a hospital without doing anything.
Fortunately, he got much better the next day and was discharged, and watching him going to work the day he went out of a hospital, I felt complex emotion about him.
Actually, I hated dad since I was young. He is so conservative that he divided man's work and woman's work. He seemed not to love family as he never talks to me unless I talk to him first and is always angry at mom. He told me not to get along with lesbian friends, saying they are sinners to God. When I asked for some advises, he just said 'pray to god. he will solve everything', though what I needed was a piece of warm words from him. He was politically conservative and sometimes tried to inject his opinions on my brain. To me, he was always like a villian and I always wanted to be financially independent so that I don't have to be subordinated by him.
But after I saw him being sick and going to the work the next day he was hospitalized, I could a poor, old man, not a villian.
He grew up poor, exposed to family violence. His parents always fought because of money problem and couldn't financially and mentally support him studying to go into the college. He had to firstly work in construction site after a high school graduation to earn money for tuition fees. And now, he got an incurable heart disease but still have to work hard to earn money for their daughters.
Then I knew it.
He isn't indifferent to me but did not learn how to express the love from their family.
He doesn't love mom but is too shy to say warm words to her as he has never seen a man and woman being nice to each other.
He is inevitable to being conservative as he had lived in the world that I cannot imagine right now. (he married when he was over 40.)
He is doing his best to express love and support family by earning money hard because he know a misery of pioneering a life alone, without any help.
From then, I don't hate dad. I know feel love from him though he doesn't talk to me. Sometimes, it is hard to accept that parents are also human.
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