In Vietnamese, it sounded like poetry. It was succinct and biting, and let the audience know right away what kind of man my dad was and still continues to be.
After a difficult ass therapy session today, with a focus on that asshole of a human being - the image of a tree stuck. The Giving Tree is a widely known tree-story, but this one is likely its antithesis.
At some point in its life, the tree may have provided nutrients for those around it. But in my 28 years observing it, the nourishment was deceptive. What it provided was poison. And what it sacrificed were just mere gains for itself.
It's been sitting there, rotting alone. And yet, it still manages to exploit the soil it's lived in, the sun shining on it, and the moisture that other living things could use. Attempts to remove its roots are not enough. It's stubborn and the scarred soil remembers it.
It has never given without gaining substantially. It only knows how to sacrifice others.