top of page

I Wonder What my Father Would Say

I wonder what my father would say. Have you ever had this thought come up in your mind, no matter how many years since one of your parents have passed you suddenly wonder how they would react? This is what came up for me so very strongly just over a month ago in Kigali, Rwanda, when I sat listening to the amazing survival story of a young, dynamic 31-year-old male whom I will call Peter (a fictitious name). Peter who was just over 2 years when his family was slaughtered during the Genocide Against the Tutsi in Rwanda in 1994. More on this later.

Actually, my father, who passed away at the age of 96 less than three years ago, never hid what he felt. I should know what he would say, because he definitely wasn’t shy about it, in the 60 years he and I were around in this world at the same time I can think of numerous times he said just what was on his mind.

For example, when I was about 15, for some reason I found myself sharing with him that I had invited some friends over the house when he and my mother were away and we smoked a few joints of marijuana (not something I did too often). “What!?”, he screamed out, “Do