My dad and I are very close, don’t get it twisted. However, I would preferably like to call that space between me and him, ‘the vacuum of respect’ as you would all. Dad is the perfect role model. He doesn’t equivocate when it comes to spiritual health, academics, and character. He raised us in a cocoon of unflinching respect for others and hard work not to mention a high degree of Christian faith. If you met my dad, you would think he owns a 3 acre church with a huge following. ‘Vitu kwa ground ni different’ anyway. Trust me, I also wonder why he doesn’t have one. Perhaps it is how he loves that morning sleep too much to ever consider going to morning glory on a daily basis leave alone being the one coordinating it. That morning sleep however, God-send! I can relate. (I am hopeful he won’t come across this article) Or is it that he spends all his weekends on the farm meaning no time to shepherd the flock? Mmmh, the jury is out there. Mr M, dad, always keeps tabs on his children, more like monitoring and evaluation. Most parents do this because they have prospective future plans for their kids so the regular checkups are merely for aligning their kids to the set parent-child strategic goals.
Experience of my life
Two days ago I sat next to Mr M in church and it was the longest 3 hours ever. Church is a place where you let go of your issues in ways best known to you and therefore one needs their safe space, more like a spiritual sanctum. Infact, whoever said men don’t cry should attend a holy-ghost filled church service and see my younger brother. Preferably, people should sit next to strangers so that they forego minding about their surrounding and being judged. Truth be told, sitting next to Mr M has never been an issue because we roll in different social circles and he ends up sitting with the wife or some other place. On this occasion however, he got into church late and decided to have the back bencher experience at my expense because that was my designated sleeping area, sorry I mean sitting area. Pardon me. The man himself was in my safe space and I couldn’t help but think to myself that this was it. The evaluation of my relationship with God, or if at all I had a relationship with the big guy above. It comes without saying that I had to be on my best behavior. I sheepishly sat next to him on the long bench and we exchanged glances. He then swung around to shake my hand perhaps in a show of solidarity to the common purpose of being in church. I am sure events didn’t unfold the same way I am documenting them and this is probably exaggeration but if you had the same experiences as I have had with this guy then you would be biased too.
Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity and I was in luck. Two ladies and one guy strode into church and walked towards the same row we were in. I wasn’t sure they would sit on our bench so I pretended to be an usher and bellowed at them to come fill my ‘dad’s bench’ which of course had space. By doing so, there were now three people between me and my dad and we were far off at extreme ends of the bench.
That my friends, was a miraculous restoration of my comfort. I spend the next three hours drowning in a pool of self-heroism and uncalled for self esteem. It was a near miss.
However, Jean de la Fontaine said ‘a person meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it’. So, soon enough, I am certain Mr M. will get me, but that won’t be today.