The story of being Dad.
By: Savio Roshan D'Souza
Tags: Dads, Father And Son, Life, Life Lessons, Happy Fathers Day

“Come soon, come soon- he is having trouble breathing…. maybe sinking”. My mom rushed to the hospital cafeteria as my sister and I were catching up a cup of coffee after another endless night of staying awake caring for Dad.

I sprinted like I never had before dashing through the cancer ward into his room- half expecting that they would be injecting him with morphine as they did the night before. While that would still make me wince in pain as it made him wince in pain, I hoped it was just that. As I dashed into his room and held his hand, he was gone. I knew it before even the doctor said it to us.

At that moment at 17, I felt everything a young man would feel- despair about the future, anger that it was happening to us, a sinking loss that I did not know how to feel- and I must confess betrayal and grief.

At 17, it just felt so unfair !!! 20 days later I would turn 18, 3 days later my Dad would turn 66. My betrayal stemmed from the fact that I was a late kid- born to my Dad when he was 48 and my Mum when she was 40; well late by the standards of the 1980’s and 90’s. Often, I would be asked “ Is he your grandfather, is the lady who comes to meet you at lunch your grand mom?”. That would mortify me as it would mortify any teenager.

The betrayal, self-loathing and pity continued for about 2 years till 1999 (separate story on what changed). Why did I have to walk into the rain and find out the route to my Engineering Admissions? Who do I talk to for my career choices? Where was he- when I needed him the most?

Over the years, post Dad I had the opportunity to be blessed with great Father figures who helped shape my outlook towards life at various stages- maybe it was Dad watching over me. As I listened to some of them speak fondly about Dad and as I gathered more memories of my Dad while cleaning up his cupboard post his death, I started slowly piecing and understanding my Dad’s lessons a little better.

Here are some of the lessons that I recall from memory and have been long treasured in my heart.

(a) Let Life Happen: Dad was the oldest of 9 kids born in rural India. 5 brothers and 3 sisters followed after him. To add to his own 3 kids. We might not have had much growing up, but Dad always bore his responsibility with a smile. Never stressed, never overtly unhappy. Maybe it was his faith, maybe it was love? I will never fully know. But all I know is Dad let life happen- keeping values dearest to him closest to his heart: his family, his friends and his love for learning. (PS: Yes- my love for reading is his legacy.)

One day during his cancer treatment, I asked Dad how did he think his life went? He said “While I am stressed about Mom and you since you are so young, I am fully satisfied that my values of faith, learning and hard work will ensure that I have left enough. The rest incidentally might be a little money that you might find once I am gone”

(b) Life is too short for disputes: Dad used to stump me. I used to always wonder how he would be good to people who were always using him for short term gains. I don’t remember our exact conversation but once when I asked him, he said “Life is a long term game- you may think you are winning the quarterly result; but if you do not get it right your long term balance sheet will look ugly”.

PS: For all those who think I still have a bone to pick with them, remember I am still work in progress :). Dad was 50 + when he said this; I have some way to go to reach there.

(c ) Enjoy the simple moments: My dad was a stickler for our evening prayers and would often give us a stern look if we sounded distracted. You can only imagine my look of surprise when he one day stopped in the middle of prayers listening to the ice cream vendors cry and instructing me to go get ice cream. Well that was just Dad for you- stern as ever but spontaneous in his love.

I once asked him why did we have to go every vacation to Mangalore to meet our grandparents. Why could we not go see the Taj and other lovely places in India or overseas. While I suspect it could also have been limited resources, Dad would always say “When you grow up and fly across the world, I will come with you wherever you want so that we spend time together. Now, let us go and see my parents so that we spend time together”.

Love for learning, simple ambition, forgiveness and simplicity of life are the legacy of my Dad’s lessons to me. Dad was by no means perfect; but 48 years or not- he was an imperfect Dad in perfect love.

And in all these years, guess when was it that I missed him the most?

It was when I carried my daughter Annika the first time and I realized I was now “Dad”. Felt a heavy sense of responsibility but then thought of Dad and said “Hey, let life happen”

I now realize my feelings at 17 stemmed from an incomplete understanding of Daddy and maybe life itself. I am no longer unhappy that I lost him at 17. The Rajesh Khanna line from the movie Anand- where incidentally Rajesh Khanna dies from Cancer — has him saying “Babu moshai Zindagi lambi nahin badi honi chahyein”. Translated in English as “ Life should not be long, but should be big and impactful”

Miss you Daddy. Happy Fathers’ Day.