Oh Saint Sacrifice, tell me about Atlas again…

 Everyone sacrifices for Photo by Steve Pinkersomething. I’ve been told time and time again by those wiser, those older, those close to me that it is part of obtaining or the result of someone’s love.  And when you do so, you can’t say one person’s sacrifice is more trying than the other. I know of only one person in my life who has sacrificed so much for me and who I care about. My father carries the weight of the world on  his shoulders, so to speak. As did the mythological Atlas. And everyday he does, he doesn’t remind you how much he has given up or what he’s been through while he holds on tight, making sure the troubling Earth doesn’t plummet into the sea.

Though he carries this world well, I wish so much that I can stand under its weight right along with him and share in the pain. My father not only raised me, put me through a decent education and tried/tries to guide me down the right path, but he has also had to do so while caring for my mother–his wife–who is mentally ill.

I know of so many who sacrifice. I too have done my share.

But my father is someone I can say without the slightest reservation that even though he carries the weight of the world, he doesn’t believe it revolves around his weary shoulders.

 

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