Since the beginning of time, it has been impossible for humans to have it off unconditionally. Even God, the dictatorial being of the human race, can non be loved unconditionally by His people unless they totally give themselves to Him and worship Him -- in separate words, unless they sacrifice themselves. Considering this, it has been hard for humans to even try to love one another without selfish motives creeping into their unconscious. Likewise, p bents and their children do not and cannot share unconditional love. In A Tale of twain Cities, Dickens portrays the ideal of unconditional love between parents and their children when, in fact, it is not a reality.
I have always thought of my consanguinity with my father as a good one until I understood the true role he is supposed to have. My daddy has constantly been more deal a friend to me than a parent. He, as my father, has an obligation to be nurturing, to lot care of me, to name responsibility for his mis draw a bead ons, to help me in times of need, and to support me financially. These are all things of which he has not yet proven to be capable.
I recall a period of time, for example, when I was more or less seven years old: my bewilder instructed him to pick me up from school, feed me, watch me for a couple of hours, and then take me back to school. Instead of doing so, he left me alone in front of my school countless times starving, waiting for what seemed like forever and wondering where he was. Not wanting my mother to find out about these times because of his unwillingness to take responsibility, he bribed me with candy and ice cream to keep my intercommunicate shut. So he did this, and the ideal father...
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