I think my parents have a lot of influence on me, the way my personality developed and my approaches and expectations in life, though I am not very close to them since young. But as a child, I witnessed my parents' philosophies in my upbringing and along the way, how these lessons concoct my thoughts and values to make me who I am today.
My father is an animal lover. He is a great person in the sense that he is able to devote himself to people and animals the way he commits himself to his family. Whilst he has shown great love for us under his wings, he will not hesitate to provide the same form of shelter to those who do not bear his blood. This resulted in my adopted brother, whom we have never been made to feel that he is an outsider. In short, my father, in the way he shows affection to even those who do not bear his blood, has taught me how to love persons, who do not belong to me, and that we should always believe that the same happiness can be accorded to those who choose to love more than being loved.
My mother brought me up when she herself was a teenager. Over the years she looked upon me as a son albeit all my failures to meet her expectations, to glorify my surname and the least, to make her proud of who I really am. There were many sorrowful times which remorse was so intense that given anyone in her position, there would be regrets that I was brought up by her. But nothing changed despite all. My mother, like all mothers, taught me how to love another unconditionally, that we do not harbour others to love us as much in return, or to give us the same amount of happiness which we chose to give. She too, brought me up to believe that happiness lies in loving a person, not the returns of being loved.
My grandmother, a woman who lived her life in poverty, raised as many as 14 children over her span of 78 years. She did not receive proper education, nor did she have a good marriage. My grandfather left her during the harshest times, with 14 children to manage through the Japanese Occupation. But she persisted. Even on her final breaths, she smiled to bid us all goodbye and told us to forgive our grandfather. My grandmother, though I do not know her well, has given me an inspiration to believe that we can all draw strength from love, including forgiving someone who has erred us, to the extend of causing us the hurt of a life time.
My few brothers, whom too, I am not very close to, have always been in loggerheads with me since young. There were jealousy; there were anger; there were prejudice. But beyond all, there is camaraderie. And this camaraderie, transcended by the love and care for one another over the years, allowed us to slowly develop understanding, thoughtfulness and eventually acceptance. My brothers led me to a direction to believe that loving another means being able to care for another, and be able to understand the importance of others in my life,and to see from their eyes, think from their minds, and feel from their hearts. They taught me empathy.
Finally my 'brother', or rather my wonderful friend, John, for proving the world wrong that blood may not necessary be thicker than water. Not when the water is a fluid of love, empathy and genuineness. John has taught me to see beyond the boundaries of familism, and that family needs not be confined to those who bleeds the same blood - but those who share the love. Like him to me, and me to him, my family. His family.
On this Maundy Thursday, I thank life for putting these great persons in my life, to teach me how to love unconditionally, to love those who are strange to us, to empathize and feel for others and to believe there is always a greater love from those beyond my kins, who are also my family.
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