My dad remembers his mother’s attempt to drown him in a tub at age 2.
She left shortly afterwards, right after giving birth to my aunt. She left the hospital alone, never to be seen again. My grandfather, at that point a young oil rig worker - had to leave his good paying job to drive a cab and be able to provide for his two children.
My grandpa loved them, and made inmense sacrifices for my dad to receive the best education he could ever get. But he beated him savagely: whips, wires - every single day. My dad ran away from his home at age 16, when he was faced with going to military school.
In the years that followed, my granddad tried to make ammends, at one point helping us to put a downpayment in our home, but my dad kept him at bay. Later, when his financial circumstances changed, my dad supported my grandfather financially in his old age, but he never really forgave him.
If there is something for what I am forever thankful is that my dad made the conscious decision to break the cycle of abuse .Though we were naughty and relentless, he really enjoyed playing and spending time with us, supporting our interests and values.
He is not a perfect man - no one is. But I must say that my dad is the reason I am the person that I am - and he is the person whose vision and hard work gave me opportunities that I could only dream up when I was a working class kid in a small barrio in Caracas. Thank you so much for everything, papi.
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from Quora http://ift.tt/2jKnkEv
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