Late farewell

I spent my childhood in a faraway village which was deprived of any kind of technology, facility etc. People’s main duty was to provide basic needs only. Education, social activities, mental health, and entertainment weren’t among those basic needs.

You may think that growing up in this village should be a curse for me. Who wants such a life? To be honest with you, I still can’t reply to this question: was it good or bad for me? Was it fate’s damn or benign?  If I grew up in well maintained society, would I be different person? It is hard to reply. Maybe it is impossible.

The only good thing about my childhood was my grandfather’s impact on me. He just saved me and my personality, with his unique way of upbringing.

He taught me everything about life, religion, what can happen to me, what will certainly occur in life, what should I avoid from, and tens of other things.

I didn’t have childhood like other kids. When I went to play with other children, I heard a voice on my back: where are you going? Is it time to play? Don’t you see that it is lunch time, come and help your grandma.

Whenever I had a chance to play, broken things, green leaves, or mud was my toy. I had 3 toys in my entire childhood. One was from my dad. It was small stuffed animal (rabbit, to be precise), second one was a doll from my uncle, third one was another doll from our relative. I keep all of them until today. I was almost at school age when I received these toys. But I didn’t have any toys in my early childhood.

What was the problem? My parents, grandparents, or society at all?

The famous quote from my grandparents was that: you haven’t seen a war. How can you know what means to be poor? You didn’t taste the bitterness of life. Life was always good to you.

I remember how we laughed at this sentence. No one can blame you for not living during a wartime. But my grandparents’ curse came true. When the first Karabakh war started, my parents were newlyweds. And when the second Karabakh war started, their marriage was in trouble. And we have seen the war as well.

Although my grandpa was nice to us, to his grandchildren, he was cruel to his children. and my parents were behaving reckless to their children.

Grandparents were representing “the lost generation”. It was the 2nd world war years. Instead of living happy youth, they were trying to survive. My grandpa was obliged to go to the battle front when his dream was to get an education. So, he was angry with life. And it was clearly visible in his behavior toward his children. As victims of this wrong behavior, my parents made us victims. Will it continue after us?

Luckily not. I am aware of my traumas, and I can understand the reasons behind both generations. And I can mend it. At least, I will try.

The only thing I regret is that wasting my years with those “faulty” generations, made me late for lots of things. There were pile of tasks for me to do: gaining mindfulness, meeting my traumas, patching them up, and starting to live a meaningful life. While I was busy with these things, years passed by. After I repaired my damaged personality, I developed awareness, and became a normal person. It was the time my youth was bidding farewell to me…