Breaking the Ice

Monday was the day where the weekend parties passed and gone and had the time to sit and enjoy with friends and company. It was hot, first days of summer and though it was a holiday it still felt rather busy. I was relieved and grateful for a great birthday weekend and had this Victoria Monday to sit back and take it in. I met up with my father, I haven’t seen him maybe for 6 months if not more from his winter migration to Trinidad.  It was good to see him even though there isn’t much to say. You would think there is much to say after 6 months but me and my father have a relationship at times that is silent, maybe I’m guessing we find solace in just seeing the other person breathe. 

We went to the Oratory, looking over a good part of the city. Walking inside,  I started thinking about the notion of having complete faith in a religion or in someone and I guess I started feeling a sense of disappointment. I wanted to get closer to my dad and wanted to get closer to the images around me but there was a disconnection. I used to come to the church site to find peace but its hard to know when a religion isn’t perfect, its man-made and bound to fail. And with my father, I do wish we have free flow of conversation, we are so polite at times we don’t speak what is really on our minds. Here I was touching the stones but contemplating whether they are real.

Going back to the car and figuring out my evening plans, again the silence. I had a question looming in my mind, so it was asked, “How can I give energy and believe in a system with people that is so corrupt, does it count for something?” My father was a little baffled, I continued, “We hear all the time that there are people who do bad things but use religion for example to hide it.” Although maybe I knew the answer, I wanted to hear my father. I was once again, a little girl trying to understand the meaning of life but was coming up with doubts. He said, “It doesn’t matter. It’s between you and the Man upstairs. Doesn’t matter what you call him, it is only between you and him not with anybody else.” I thought about it and security settled in. He may be right or it may be just a very easy answer to an never-ending question but I felt secure. “If you have any questions and you want to talk, you can call me.” And then I saw, the assurance wasn’t from the answer. Me and my father was talking. 



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