When i was younger,I used to get really excited when my dad came home from work.Whenever I’d hear a car parking in the driveway,I knew it was my pops.I would run to the closet where all the shoes were kept,and wait there silently so i could scare him.To me,my dad was the strongest man in the world,and although he could be really serious at times,he was always the best joker.Getting him scared would be the biggest accomplishment of my whole entire 5 years of life,but I could never do it.Course,I didn’t give up so easily.With the hopes and the spirit of a naive kid,I was determined.I was ambitious.I began hiding in the closet on a regular basis,and now that i think of it,my dad probably knew i were there the whole time.He’d always say “You think you can scare me?” and snort sarcastically.lol However,soon,this habit of mine slowly began to dim,and I,like most kids,grew out of it.

I would also pull his socks off when he was sitting on the couch,and he would make it extremely hard to pull them off for me,so every time i actually did pull one off,I’d fall right onto the hard surface of the floor.Don’t get me wrong here,my dad was just playing around,and I loved it.We were best buds,me and him and when he’d come home we’d always shake hands.His hand shakes weren’t like a normal dads though,his hand shakes were firm.And if you gripped it without thinking,he’d squeeze your hands so hard that you’d feel like passing out.He loved to tease people doing this.In fact a couple of days back,he told me that he made a guy cry by doing that in Afghanistan.(Which made me laugh hysterically.)

But now,as a whole lot of time passed,he comes home,and i don’t scare him.I don’t pull his socks off either.I used to be able to shake his hands really firmly,but the last time i did,he cried out in pain.He has been working so hard for so long.Something fell on his hands a couple of years back and ever since his hands have been hurting.But he still works,never giving up until his family’s needs are satisfied.He’s got 3-4 surgeries done,and none of them has helped.This makes me terribly depressed and although it really hurt when he shook my hand, I want him to  be able to do it again.I want to be able to cherish the pain because it’s nothing compared to the pain I’m feeling right now.And if you saw me at this moment of time,with tears rolling down my face,you’d know exactly why I’m trying extra hard this year to get good grades and be a better person.

I want to repay him by making him think that moving to Canada,leaving his family,and working every single day to provide food and shelter,whether his hands were hurt or not, was worth it all in the end.

I thought my dad was the bravest person in the world,and that he would never get scared even if i tried my best,but the truth is,he might not be scared of a 5 year old hiding in the closet trying to be all scary,but he sure as hell is scared of losing what stands by him every day of his life.His family.

I love my dad.

As much as i love my mum.

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