Measure of a man
The writer pays tribute to her gentle and gracious grandfather, to mark Fathers day next Sunday.
LIKE any other kid, I grew up constructing my worldview with the help of my surroundings and the people around me. I observed how one should act and carry oneself, and what one should do at certain phases of life. They helped steer my life in the right direction.
One particular aspect that I find interesting is how certain traits are associated with the different genders. Men are expected to be tough and dominant, and show little or no emotions. Meanwhile, women are supposedly vulnerable, more attentive to their emotional side, and often seen as passive.
Spotting those who do not fit the stereotypes might be difficult. I did not have to look far to find one: My grandfather, or as I call him, Atuk. He is someone I look up to. I’d like to think that he is made from fragments of the brightest light and sprinkles of pixie dust compressed into a single soul.
Despite being born during the time of colonisation, when harshness prevailed, he carries himself with much grace and tenderness. He gives off an air of calmness.
Staying over at his house on the weekend simply means you would often hear footsteps approaching the unevenly tarred front yard and friendly voices of people who look forward to spending the evening with him, catching up, and seeking advice over sweet tea and baked goods prepared by my grandmother. I might be biased but seeing how people love visiting him, it speaks volumes about his character. Those around him value his companionship.
Being around him is comforting. He loves honouring others and making people feel welcome. Never would he raise his voice while talking, and he speaks gently. It is as if he is at peace with himself and the peacefulness radiates, touching the souls around him and leaving them feeling as glad.
The world can be such a rough place.
Sometimes all you need is a kind soul to make it all better. Through him, I’ve learnt that true strength lies in gentleness. Nobody goes through life unscathed; the same goes for Atuk. But he never lets the pain deter him from treating people with kindness.
He is an expressive person. He leaves traces of himself all over the house through words of wisdom written on sticky notes, random signages and prints of his poetry – gestures that I find heart-warming as you can sense his presence at all times.
Unlike most men who suppress their emotional side, Atuk takes great pleasure in writing his thoughts down in his journals. He has stacks of journals documenting everyday moments. He smiled radiantly when I once told him that we share the same hobby. It may be the very element that connects us. Writing your thoughts down requires a great deal of vulnerability and he is not afraid of showing it to the world. I like that about him.
Of all the things I admire about him, the greatest is how he loves his family. He is never one to portray the stern grandfather persona. He adores his grandchildren – and it shows. His hugs are warm and wholesome.
Even when we knock on his front door at 4am, waking him up from his sleep, he is just glad that we are back in town. A wide smile would still appear on his half-sleepy face.
He keeps our moral compass in check, not wanting any of his grandchildren to hurt other people. He looks at us as if we are prize winners when, in reality, we are a bunch of troublemakers that make our parents crawl back to him to seek help. That thoughtful look he gives, it sparks off a light in us that makes us believe we are actually capable of becoming better people. Everyone could use somebody who sees past their mistakes, once in a while.
Not having the expected “masculine” traits does not make him any less of a man. If anything, it has opened my eyes to how men should really be. Gone are the days when putting up a tough exterior was the only option for men. Seeing him stay true to his values and how he has touched the lives of those around him – that is more than enough reason to embrace life with kindness, vulnerability and grace. This one’s for you, Atuk.