Care
Dad was always a tough, unemotional man, but since my mother became ill, he has been caring for her so devotedly and gently that my siblings and I can't believe our eyes.
The Low Point
I never had a close relationship with my father, but when I was 18 and at the lowest point in my life, he was the only one who took my problems seriously and took me to a therapist who practically saved my life.
Do You Remember?
During a completely ordinary Sunday lunch, my father chuckled and asked my mother, "Do you remember when they almost shot my head off?" I was suddenly speechless, having no idea what he was talking about. My father – who has worked as a company director for as long as I can remember – told the story as if it was the most natural thing in the world: that years ago he worked for the Central Crime Investigation Directorate, which was basically the predecessor of the TEK (Hungarian Counter Terrorism Centre). During a raid, a bullet whizzed past his head, so close it grazed his helmet. I still have a thousand questions.
Mici
Dad was a grumpy, cantankerous "old man" his whole life, even when he wasn't old yet. He always just grumbled and complained, never really liked anyone or anything, but that's how we got used to him. Then one time I found a kitten and since I was going on a business trip and my mother was on vacation with her friends, I had to leave it with my father. Of course, he was fuming, telling me to take the stinky beast away, but I begged him to keep it alive for three days, after which I would come back and take it. Well, by the time I got home, dad told me I wasn't taking the animal anywhere because it was the most beautiful, smartest, and kindest kitten. I had never seen dad like this before; he completely fell in love with the cat. That was four years ago, and since then they have been best friends, eating, sleeping, and gardening together.
The Conversation
My father was divorcing his second wife, and I was divorcing my first husband. The two of us – who had never talked about our feelings before – sat down and poured our hearts out to each other. We realized how much we had in common and how we supported each other during this difficult time. Strange as it may seem, our divorces brought us closer together.
The Grandchild
I don't have many memories of my father from childhood because he was hardly ever home. He always came home late at night and mostly spent weekends in the shed, tinkering with the car or something else. So I was amazed at how wonderfully he treats his grandchildren: with endless playfulness, patience, and love. I asked him why he wasn't like this with me. He said we were so poor that he had to work day and night to provide everything for me, but he is very grateful to me for the grandchildren, through whom he can finally experience being a grandpa.
Protection
When my parents divorced, I stayed with my mother, like most kids. That’s when I noticed how terrible my mother was, and I hadn’t seen it before because dad did everything to protect me from her. My mother drank secretly and took out all her frustrations on those around her, which was me after dad left. After that, I appreciated my father much more and moved in with him.
Supported
When I told my parents I was gay, I was terrified of dad’s reaction but was sure my mother would accept me. The opposite happened. My mother said what I was doing was a sin and that I would burn in hell, while my dad, to my greatest surprise, just hugged me and has supported me in everything ever since.
The Sum
Dad was always stingy and tight-fisted, which annoyed me a lot in my teens because I never had money for drinks at parties or to take girls out on dates. However, when I turned 18, dad took me with a new car to a fully furnished small apartment and handed me the keys to both, saying this was mine now. I was left speechless.
Against Overwhelming Odds
My father dropped my mother and me off in front of the store, and when we had moved a bit away from the car, we heard some shouting. A group of young men stood in front of the car, and my father honked at them to move so he could drive away. The hooligans surrounded the vehicle; one started punching the hood with his fist, and the others seemed like they wanted to overturn the car. I was very scared at this point, but my father calmly got out and pushed away the guy hitting the car. He gave a humiliating slap to the friend who came over and kicked the next one in the stomach. All five hooligans attacked my 55-year-old dad and each got a slap that made them recoil. When he was done, dad got back into the car and drove away as if nothing had happened. I told my mother I didn’t know my dad was an action hero, to which she proudly replied that’s why she fell in love with him.
