I grew up a lonely child, though we were a big family of eight, parents and children.
You are most lonely when you are in the midst of those who are by the call of nature, physically closest to you but are yet very far from being part of your life, mental and physical developmental milestones and deepest struggles as a child. Life forces you to cry but you learn quickly that there is no shoulder available for you to cry on, though you see some many in sight.
My experience taught me that an orphan is not only a child whose parents are dead. An orphan is also a child, whose parents are not availabl, dead or alive.
My father died at the age of 82 in 2009 when I was 39. We never had a father-to-son conversation, meaningful or meaningless.
There was no intentional decision on the part of our parents to forster family fellowship and communion.
I do not think my parents understood that co-habitation as family members, parents and children would not in itself and by itself forge a meaningful and rewarding relationship, which promotes family values and sibling cohesion.
I think till today I still struggle with fellowshipping as siblings. It is sad that it takes my wife to deliberately remind me of my siblings’ birthdays till last week. Reaching them most of the time is to discuss what duty demands.
Building a rich relationship with my parents-in-law has been a major struggle. It is a carryover. I never had any with my aged parents, apart from perfunctorily performing the duties of a son to aged parents.
I am recuperating loner. I enjoy the company of myself a great deal and I converse with myself a lot.
Childhood neglect, which resulted in feeling of loneliness and rejection has dealt an almost irreparable damage on my social psychye and the potentiality of all of its expressions.
What I have found today is that there has been a metamorphosis in my journey of conversation with myself.
Come next time, I will share that details of that metamorphosis and what I now consider the major lessons.
Do have an INSPIRED week ahead.