I wrote this to The Chronicles of a Broken Heart and thought it is a very good thing to share to you readers here too. Enjoy.
Kyrie eleison; Supplicanti parce, Deus.
METAMORPHOSIS
I chose metamorphosis instead of "making changes" because changes could be very small and no body notices them much, but metamorphosis is something big. You see how a cocoon transforms into a beautiful butterfly? That's how metamorphosis works.
My metamorphosis took place this year. Let's see a few (minor) befores and afters my college endurance.
BEFORE:
1. I was very anxious about a lot of things.
2. I get impatient very quickly.
3. I get angry at a blink of an eye.
4. I smile less
5. I join lesser crowds
AFTER:1. I am still anxious, but now I know it will not help anything by only being anxious. I learn to work things out.
2. I only get impatient with rational things. I don't get impatient that easily anymore.
3. I understand that everything happens for a reason. I rarely get angry unless people poke me too much.
4. I smile a lot more and don't quite care to look around people who hate me or dislikes me. I live in my own happy circle with good friends.
5. I still join lesser crowds, but I am grateful to have my own crowd. I love them for who they are and it was mainly because of them, I've changed into a better person (spiritually).
Here comes my major story:
Things were all fine when I was born, (with my parents, grandparents and cousin sister) until I was 3 years old. My mother was still carrying my sister and my parents finally divorced with the reasons I need not tell. You tell me, what are the most common reasons people divorce?
I was sad for a moment but due to my young age, I forgot those melancholy very quickly. When I was 6, I was brought to court as my mother demanded my custody. She was the plaintiff and me, defendant. Or I should say I am the key witness to the case. My father was a defendant. These were the conversation between me and the judge which until now, I still remember clearly.
"So, you chose to stay with your father. Why?""Because... I like my house. I like to stay with my grandparents. I have an air-conditioner in my room."
"Well, what if your mom's house having an air-conditioner in your room for you? Will you stay with her?"
"No," with a sheepish smile which made the judge and secretary smiled too.
"Well, what if you get to see your grandparents every now and then, when you stay with your mother? Will you be okay to stay with her?"
"No," again with the smile. This time, I took a little longer time to answer him.
"Why?" he prompted.
"Because...... I like staying with my grandparents. I like my house. I like my air-conditioner in my room," this they laughed again because I repeated what I have said earlier. The effect was, my house members went down from six to five.
This was my choice, which made who I am today, and my father won the case. Pardon my stupidity, readers. I was small and I didn't know the meaning of death until when I was 10 years old. My grandfather passed away, which reason that I could vaguely remember. That hit me pretty badly that time; and so my house members went down from five to four.
When I was 11, if I could remember correctly. My father had a big quarrel with my cousin sister one night and chased her out of the house. It was a trauma for me. It simply reminded me of how badly did he manage to control his temper and often fought with Granny every now and then when I was small. Four to three.
When I was 13, also if I could remember clearly. I suck at remembering "how old are you when this happened?". My father remarried to a woman whom I (not forgetting Granny) hated her a month after knowing her. She was by all means a bad influence to my dad. She had brainwashed dad until he forsake us both (me and Granny) in a way that he spent lesser time with us. She had brainwashed dad until he forwent his well-paid job here and decided to start fresh in LONDON with her. I'd begged for him not to go. Twice. But he insisted. I remembered this very clearly - he went to England when I was 15 and I was in a camp the day he flew off.
As soon as I stepped into my house, I collapsed onto the ground and cried, lamenting to Granny, "Why must he leave? Am I doing anything wrong? It was Mom, then Grandpa, (then Shirley, my cousin; I didn't say this when I cried, but I meant it) and now papa! Granny, tell me. What did I do wrong and why everyone is leaving me?!" She couldn't help but cry too. I doubt she was sad her son left her, she was sad for me. As soon as I was pacified, I slept for 14 hours due to the fatigue in camp and trauma at home.
I've hated my father since then and Granny couldn't understand. Although I was good with him, I was just BEING NICE, because it is bad to be rude to one's father. I believe he knows this too. Until one night in recent August, when I was in hostel (present. Now I am 18), with my friend in my room. Granny called me and told that "Dad is coming home. You told me to inform you so you could come home a little later, right? You shouldn't do like this! He is your father, for whatever he did to you! What would he feel when he knows you're doing this to him? Just think for yourself," and she hung down the phone. I was rather angry that moment for being bombarded in such a manner. I called Shirley (knowing that calling Mom would be a sore in the ears for some reasons, she is not there to understand my predicaments) and cried to her, with my friend there, and I felt that God spoke through her for this sentence, "Whatever it is, Granny is right. He is still your father. What you do now is to let go. Forgive him. Untie the knot. No matter how hard it is, you have to try, because if you don't, you will suffer. Not anyone else." She spoke with such authority which I had nothing else to say to her besides, "Okay. Thanks. I shall rest now. Good night. I love you."
I prayed a short prayer that moment and the next morning, when I woke up, "Our hallowed Father in Heaven, be praised on Your name. Father, I just pray to you that my knot will be untied. And also, I pray to You that You will help me to lift this revenge off my heart, Father Lord. Please, Lord. I beg for Your deliverance from such revenge in my heart because I believe, Lord. Without you, I will not be able to make it out. You are my sole strength when everything else fails, Lord. Please, supply me again with your strength to lift this revenge off my heart. Supplicanti parce, Deus!"
I forgot about Dad's wrongdoings as I've never thought about it anymore. I didn't quite know that my prayer was heard until yesterday, 3rd September 2011. Dad called and told me he is coming back to Malaysia as soon as he gets his paycheck there and intends not to go back to London. That moment, was the first time ever feeling that the grudge in me being lifted up. Normally, I would feel very sad and depressed (being confirmed by my close friend when I talked to him about it last night, when I said "I would normally feel very sad, you know it, right?" He replied, "VERY!") when I know he is coming back but yesterday. I didn't. I felt that it's part and parcel of my life. I have learnt to let go already. I've decided to let whatever comes and goes, as it is. After all, I could not control EVERYTHING in the world. This, I have finally understood. I hope this long article inspires the readers around the world to learn to forgive and forget. Of course, remember that GOD is always there, listening to you. You only have to believe in your prayers. That's all.
"What forgiveness cannot achieve?" - Vidura.
Yours truly,
Alex.
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