My dad is old. So old, that I can’t relate to him. My dad was in his mid-forties when I was born. Practically half of his life was over.  Now he is in his mid-sixties and is not feeling the best. My dad is mysteriously unwell. It’s been slowly consuming him, so slow that it took relatives outside of my immediate family to notice that he was changing.

My mom thinks that he is dealing with the “empty nest syndrome”. She thinks he is also down because he no longer works, and the only kid in the house to keep him entertained is me, which is not that good considering that I am 21 years old. (haha)

Anyway, I thought to myself: this is a GREAT time to clean out the garage since my dad is oblivious to a lot of things nowadays. He has piles and piles of books in there that no one reads. He has refused to get rid of them for as long as I can remember, and although he used to say once in a while “OK, I will give the books away,”…it just never happens. Speech is easier than practice.

So I started delving into the books. My mom and I have already managed to get rid of about 100. But, there are at least several hundred more to go.

That was when I opened up a textbook that belonged to my dad. There were markings ALL OVER the book. Copious notes, diagrams, numbers, underlining…I was surprised out of my mind. My dad doesn’t read anything now, except for the Quran and a few others of his favorite Islamic books.  He spends most of his time sitting down on the sofa doing dhikr, staring into space, and recalling precious memories he had as a youth in Guyana. Sometimes he mentions college but I usually zone out at that point…(I know I’m bad).  It is hard for me to have a normal conversation with my dad.  Sometimes he doesn’t respond and sometimes he just doesn’t understand what I am saying.  I treat my dad like a grandpa.

Anyway, I looked at the book and I felt like I was looking into the life of a stranger, a person I never knew before. I’ve seen pictures of my dad in college, but never had I seen anything like this. I wondered what kind of student my dad was. He was definitely a nerd, considering his major (electrical engineering). He was a professor for a while too. My dad rarely discussed what he taught with me, I was too young anyway.

I looked at the book and I thought, “Wow, here is a part of my dad’s life I never knew.” Imagine him in college, cramming for a test, running to catch a bite with his friends, pulling an all nighter…my dad? Wow.

I started to get sad. I put the book down and walked to the living room. There was my dad sitting in the same spot he always sits, reading something. Alhamdulillah I don’t have a couch potato dad. My dad looks so wise when he wears his huge glasses and pours over his book.

Anyway, the point of this post: honor and respect your parents. You may not get along with them, you may not understand them, but we can learn from them. They all went through the same stuff as us, they all had their share of the pain and suffering that comes along with youth. They once felt the same excitement and desire for adventure that the youth feels on a daily basis. There are mysterious stories within our parents’ lives that we don’t know about, and if we did, we would honor and respect them more. Alhamdulillah Allah has given me the chance to live with my parents at this age and to be able to serve them.  But, I am absolutely horrible at taking advantage of this opportunity.  InshAllah, from now, I am going to try and build bridges with my dad.

Maybe in between the mundane requests he has (button his sleeve collar, tell him the time, allow him to drop me to school) I can gain some of his wisdom just from being in his presence.