Not so small choice

Both the most difficult and the most adorable family members influence our lives. My granny was controlling and manipulative, while my papa was full of love, non-demanding, calm, and self-content. Everyone, including the children, often took Papa for granted, yet he remained relaxed about it. I always wondered how he managed that.

Granny was popular among family, relatives, and friends, often receiving all the attention. Everyone in the family tried to please Granny to keep her happy, but I did the opposite and often argued with her. I thought, “If I am not doing anything wrong, why should I please her?” 

For 30 years, I kept fighting with her and, in the process, became more or less like her in certain ways — critical and judgmental. She was subtle; I was vulnerable. People judged my behavior, and I felt bad about it. Much later in life, I realized that my outward behavior and reactions actually helped me identify my problem because it was visible. After trying every other possibility, I started practicing meditation.

As I meditated, my papa’s qualities surfaced within me, having been there subconsciously all along. Even though my upbringing was critical, controlled by my granny, I subconsciously decided that I would not treat my child in the same way. One day, my five-year-old daughter Vrinda, after playing with her friend Molly at the swimming pool, came to me and asked, “Can we go to a restaurant with Molly and her family for snacks?”

I was not on speaking terms with Molly’s mother. We had fought recently. I said, “Baby, neither your friend nor her mother has asked me.” Innocently, Vrinda replied, “But she asked me, and I am asking you!” I thought, “I can easily divert my daughter’s attention, then I don’t have to face my friend. It would make me look desperate if I made the first move after a long cold war.”

What to do? For a few seconds, everything stopped. The next moment, I surprised myself by saying, “Okay, baby, I will go with you.” I slowly and quietly walked up to my friend. That short distance felt too long. I thought, “Why am I putting myself through this? It is killing me. At least she could walk towards me. My daughter doesn’t know what I am doing for her happiness; forget about being acknowledged.”

As I reached my friend and her family, my friend gave me a warm smile, and we started talking as if there had never been any conflict between us. Truly, we both missed each other.

I remembered my papa did the same for everyone his whole life. What we thought was his weakness was, in fact, his strength.

A Quiet Strength
He never controlled or shouted,
Or let his anger out.
Love always took the first seat,
Choosing not to pass his pain to a child—
To me, that was no small choice.