My dad’s Superman. I’ve always thought of my dad as Superman. But the day I said that aloud in the class I was greeted with ridicule. I remember rushing back to my seat teary-eyed. It was my first day at the school in the new city and I was asked to introduce myself to the class.
Miss Lousy, my class teacher, had a quick chat with me. Later on, I was to learn that it was her way of dealing with things. She asked me more about my dad and me. After the exchange of couple of questions and answers, everything was settled. She ironed her skirt with her hands while getting up from the seat. You can always be sure calm and peace are to be restored, when she irons out her skirt. It is as though she has uncluttered her mind. Another thing I was to learn about her in the coming days.
She spoke to the class and told the class that my dad indeed was Superman. Though Superman a mere metaphor, this cute girl’s dad does save people from bad guys. And she asked the class to guess what my dad’s profession is. The answers were interesting – God, Police, Writer, Actor, Doctor, and on went the list.
It was Lily who said Doctor. Miss Lousy then told the class that my dad was unlike the stereotype Superman and did not wear a fancy costume or stir up any drama while rescuing people from the villains. He being a doctor rescued people from the villain called diseases. Then she asked the class, how many of you want to be a doctor when you grow up? . And everyone’s hand shot up in the air. I loved that instant.
This was a year ago. My dad no longer acts or looks like a Superman. He looks tired and exhausted and cries most of the night. I have been moved to the hospital. I like it here because I can be closer to my daddy and I know most of the hospital staff. They call me lil doctor and are very sweet to me. I know, this time the villain is mightier than what my poor dad can handle.
I keep telling him that he is my Superman and that seems to trigger his agony and he simply rushes out of the room, ever time he hears it.