Metanoia.

The Sad Reality

20 August 2011 | 9:08 PM | 0 letters

"People who hurt others are actually the ones who are really hurting inside."

That's what my father said about my uncle about 2 or 3 years ago. I now realized that what he said about him was true. My uncle is not in good terms with my family. Whatever the reason is, I don't know. And I guess I'll never know.

It started when he and his wife sent an email that contained insults to my father to our other relatives. I was never offended by the email. I even agreed to some of its contents. I knew though that that email marked the end of their friendship. I had no plans of ignoring my uncle but I guess he had plans of ignoring me. I greeted him one day and he just stared at me. His face was full of shock. It was as if he had seen a ghost. I guess he was expecting me to stop treating him nicely. We haven't spoken since.

I have been very bothered by this. I hate conflicts, especially conflicts with people in my own family. I have dreamed of my uncle lots of times. In each dream he'd tell me that he wasn't mad at me. Waking up was very disappointing. My uncle and aunt left this house two years ago. Where they live, they won't tell us. Not even my grandparents. Though my aunt and I are still in (what I hope are) good terms, I never asked her about such things.

Now, why did I realize that what my father said was true? I now stay in the room where my aunt and uncle used to stay. I was looking around when I found a brown folder full of bond paper. As I read the first page, I realized that they belonged to my uncle. It was perhaps a diary of some sort. It didn't tell of what he did that day, but mostly of what he felt that day. While I read the first page, I already saw his disappointment in life. The following pages were proof. He was frustrated. He was disappointed in a lot of things. He was disappointed in a lot of people, even in his wife. It saddens me that he sees life in such a way. In one page, he criticized the common saying "do whatever makes you happy." It was followed by a series of questions like "Whatever?! Even if it's no longer appropriate? Even if it means hurting others?"

His writings were very moving. You could see that he was pouring his heart out in his writings. It saddens me that this man, the man who treated me rudely, the man who never reached out to me, the man who stayed in his room all day long playing with his PSP was hurting deep inside. I never thought of him that way.

I realized that he had no family other than his wife. My uncle is Chinese. Perhaps we all know that most chinese families are very strict in preserving their tradition that they cannot intermarry with other races. Because of that, my uncle had to leave his family. In one page he says "it was all for nothing." If he was here, I probably would've hugged him. But he's not. And I have this feeling that I'll never see him again. He was never with my aunt whenever we had birthday parties or family reunions. My aunt would say he was working. But sometimes I wonder if he just wanted to avoid us.

I have learned a lot in what I read. I have learned the sad reality of life. I have learned to understand that what people show are sometimes not what they really are inside. And
that sometimes, no, most of the time, you need to dig deeper into them. I have learned to understand that I have to reach out to others. A lot of people are hurting and they'll never admit it. They'll never even show it. But they are. ~~They are.~~

My heart is aching from what I have read. I feel pity. I feel sadness. I feel regret. If only I had known what he was feeling, or what he was going through, I probably would've tried to reach out to him. Or perhaps treated him differently - better. But I had not known.

They say experience is the best teacher. Yes, I agree. But I'd like to add more to that. Because you don't learn from your experiences only, you learn from other people's experiences, too. When my uncle said that he was alone, I wondered if it was because no one chose to stay with him or if it was because he purposely stayed away from them. He stated that he wanted to limit his connections with people who did not share his ideals. He said he wanted to be with classy people. I cannot blame him. I, myself, have also wanted to leave this house a dozen times for the same reason. I realized that we had a lot in common, especially when it comes to feeling trapped in this hot and humid house. I cannot blame him.

I guess I have learned my lesson in his writings. I feel a bit guilty for reading his writings. But there was just so much to learn about him that I couldn't stop reading. In his writings, he was a different person. It was the side of him that I hadn't known for until the past few minutes. We barely talked and I highly doubt it that I'll ever be able to speak to him again. It really saddens me.

I really hope that one day, he'll find what he's searching for. That one day, he'll be able to fix things with his wife. That one day, he'll have a better career. That one day, he won't find the world such a boring place.

I don't know if I'll ever see him again. Perhaps there's a reason why God made him leave those pieces of bond paper here. Maybe it's because God knew that one day I would read it. Perhaps He knew that through those pieces of paper, I'd learn a lot. That maybe, I'd be able to see my uncle for who he really is, and understand why he was like that.

All things in life are limited. You don't know how long something, or someone, will last. We have to make the most out of what we have. Because if not, it's only after it's gone before we realize that we're too late.

As my uncle said "Tragedy isn't not having what you want, but knowing that you had it and lost it."

Labels: diary, personal

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