the game

the game:mother and father

Chapter Four: Mother and Father

The joys of parents are secret, and so are their griefs and fears: they cannot utter the one, nor will they utter the other" Francis Bacon, Sr.

I sighed heavily as I looked down at the creek. The waters ran so smoothly, and the waters were so clear.  It was a very good place to come, and think. Somewhere peaceful, where nobody would come, and bother me for anything. The green, tall grass was also a comfort as well as the trees that grew tall. Some of the trees had markings form where countless generations of kids would come, and train. However, nobody used this spot anymore. Plants, and flowers of every kind were now free to grow. It was so quiet, you could hear the birds chirping their songs, animals scurrying about, and fighting for something or another.

It reminded me of the stream back when I was a kid. My father would always take me fishing there every weekend when he was done with work. I smiled remembering my parents......

        Like any other boy, my hero was my father. My father looked exactly like me, and almost acted the same way. The only difference was that he was more reserved than I was. He was more withdrawn and hard-working than I ever was. He always seemed to have a problem with others being in his personal space, he always got uncomfortable when anyone touched him or got too close to him. I always thought it was funny, but the only people he didn't seem to mind having in his space was my mother, and, of course, his children. He always sensed the mood and refrained from speaking unless it was important to speak. When he did speak, it was always wise, and people usually did what he thought they should do.  He also didn't show his feelings towards others, and often seemed cold, and distant. Around us it was almost the same, but we did see a few emotions that others did not see. He was generally a quiet person in all, but from stories I heard he had another side to him as well. I guess he loved drinking, and when he would get drunk he was loud, and abrasive, and said anything that came to his mind. He made sure we kids were well rounded people, with a good education, a good work ethic. He made sure we knew the value of a dollar, but he also made sure we knew all things we needed to know to become good people. He also allowed time for fun, and we often did things as a family. He spent time with both Haine and me, but more time with me. I always thought it was because he favored me over my sister. Or maybe it was because I was the first born son, and therefore would become the hair to his estate, or should I say become head of the family after  he died. My father was very loving toward his kids and his wife, but when we kids needed discipline, he made sure that the punishment had fit the crime. He never abused, or neglected any of us. So, the punishments were never cruel, and unusual. He always made sure that his family never went without things we needed. We may not have had everything we wanted, but we had the things we needed, and that was more important than anything else.

    My mother, on the other hand, was almost the complete opposite of my father. She was abrasive, and always spoke her mind. She was energetic, headstrong, and very affectionate. She loved having people around her, and enjoyed having many friends. She also made sure we felt loved and doted on us constantly. However, she had a dark side. If you made her angry, she made sure to get back at you tenfold. She always said that if someone hits you hit them back ten times harder than they hit you so that they learn never to mess with you again. Of course my father, who loved peace, often told us that while it was good to defend ourselves, we shouldn't go around hitting everyone who picks a fight with us. That would be a lot of people who would be hurt. My mother always ignored that fact though. She was also a very clean person. She never had us wear anything that was dirty, even if we only wore it for five minutes. She never cared what others thought about her. She loved art, cooking, cleaning, and history. She was the smartest person I ever met. However, she was also someone who was ruled mostly by her emotions. If she felt that something wasn't right, she would say so right away. My father almost always held back from saying what he truly felt unless it was his place to say so. My mother, though, was very beautiful. She had the curliest black hair, and green eyes. In fact, she looked a lot like Haine.