{"id":241,"date":"2014-06-15T07:07:30","date_gmt":"2014-06-15T12:07:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/splitthemoon\/?p=241"},"modified":"2014-06-15T07:29:45","modified_gmt":"2014-06-15T12:29:45","slug":"a-gift-for-abu","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/splitthemoon\/2014\/06\/a-gift-for-abu\/","title":{"rendered":"A Gift for Abu"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

\"\"<\/a>
He fed me love. And cookies. Lots of cookies.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/p>

What do you gift to a man who doesn\u2019t have everything, but wants virtually nothing? \u00a0This is what I\u2019ve been thinking about as Father\u2019s Day approached and I realized the most precious gift I could give my father would be words honoring him.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know his entire story, children rarely know everything about their parents, but I can begin by confessing that he is the only man in my life who has never abandoned me. \u00a0My father, Anwarul Haq Chaudry, born in what was then India in 1940, came from a middle class Punjabi background. He witnessed his part of India become Pakistan, and all the growing pains of a new nation. As the youngest of seven children, he was raised by a remarkable father who never remarried after his wife died when my dad was only four years old. \u00a0My grandfather, who was in his forties when he became a widow, raised his seven children alone.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
My grandfather, aka Dada Abu. Fierce and devoted.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Abu was a sports prodigy, excelling in cricket, becoming the captain of the Punjab cricket team, but not supported by his family. \u00a0In the 1960\u2019s it was no claim to fame to be a cricket star, especially when your older brother was a doctor and you were expected to follow his footsteps. Though he got into medical school, he deferred instead to attend veterinary school so he would have time to play cricket. \u00a0It was a decision that his family spurned for years.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Abu holding tiger cubs. Yes, he rocked.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

He was married in his 20\u2019s to a young woman who I know very little about, other than she was sick and died soon into the marriage. \u00a0My father would remarry years later, after my grandfather had chosen my mother for him. In 1975 Abu left his country and family to immigrate to the US, hoping to make a better life for his new wife and newborn daughter, but expecting to return to live in Pakistan one day. \u00a0He never did.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Newborn me and Abu. Lahore, 1974.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

I am his firstborn, in a culture that didn\u2019t necessarily celebrate the birth of girls, but I\u2019ve felt like nothing less than the apple of his eye for most of my life. \u00a0He expected both his daughters to be respectful of cultural norms, but to excel in studies, to aim for a career, to beat out any boy in anything we tried. He had humble means as a government employee, but bought all three of us kids starter cars as soon as we turned 16 to give us agency and independence. \u00a0He taught me the value of integrity when I once asked to borrow one of his USDA issued pens and he said no, it could only be used for official work. He expected us to work hard, mow lawns, paint decks, clean snow, build things with our hands, and was an example to us of the importance of such a work ethic by almost always maintaining two jobs himself. He\u2019s repeatedly given me two pieces of advice I have yet to internalize: 1) it\u2019s not what you say, it\u2019s how you say it and 2) dogs bark and caravans continue. \u00a0And always, always, he has said to us that everything he has done, he\u2019s done for his kids.<\/p>\n

As a child I achieved the perfect balance of respectful fear and daughterly adoration for him, and as I grew he returned the respect by honoring my choices in studies and in my personal life. \u00a0When I met a young man in college and wanted to marry him, my father told me he knew I was intelligent and would make good decisions. When that decision turned out to be terrible, he told me to come home. In years that followed, as a divorced single mother, as a remarried woman with a second child but unsure of her new marriage, he told me I could come home. \u00a0In all these years, this has been his greatest gift to me. A place to always come home to.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Can you feel the love? I can.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

My parents have never pretended to be in a happy marriage, if they ever were it was in a time I can\u2019t remember. But in a very old-school way they stuck it out, for their three children. \u00a0It\u2019s no small sacrifice to give up what you think life could have in store for you for the sake of your kids. Most people today don\u2019t make that sacrifice, and maybe that\u2019s the healthier thing to do. They have both been loving parents to us, but just were not meant for each other. I imagine that they both dreamt of love, affection, companionship that eluded them somehow, and I pray that God gives it to them in abundance in the next life. For better or worse,\u00a0I will always honor the fact that they decided their own personal fulfilment was secondary to their children having a stable, and yet crazy, home.<\/p>\n

And so I\u2019m brought back to that word, home. \u00a0If there is any place in the world that is home to me, it\u2019s my father. He has been my safe space, a rock steady presence, my first and last resort in the worst of times. My father is my home.<\/p>\n

Dearest Abu, happy Father\u2019s Day. \u00a0Every day of your life with us has been a gift that we can never repay.<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Abu today, may God always preserve him.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

“What do you gift to a man who doesn\u2019t have everything, but wants virtually nothing? This is what I\u2019ve been thinking about as Father\u2019s Day approached and I realized the most precious gift I could give my father would be words honoring him.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1704,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-241","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"\nA Gift for Abu<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\""What do you gift to a man who doesn\u2019t have everything, but wants virtually nothing? 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