I'm afraid I don't have many anecdotes or experiences to share. The only thing that comes to my mind is the time my father was kidnapped. Some years ago, when I was a kid, a group of men broke into our old country house. Their plan was to take me with them, but my dad convinced them to take him instead. The kidnappers left my mother and me locked in our own home while they escaped with my father. After hours of screaming for help, our neighbor --who lived about half a mile from us-- came to rescue us. Luckily, his abduction lasted only a few months. My family paid the ransom and my father came back safely, although he was a lot thinner than usual and had a scruffy beard. Funnily enough, the whole experience didn't affect him too badly. Actually, he used to share his story almost as if it were some sort of adventure. He even had a more-or-less friendly relationship with one of his captors, who offered to help him to escape. Looking back, I would have liked to have a better relationship with my dad. He was a very friendly man, but I was a shy and weird kid/teenager, so I never felt completely comfortable around him. according to my mom, he wasn't always like that. He used to be a troublesome man who drank too much for his own good, but he changed for the better when my older brother was born. I wonder if I would be able to be like him and change my ways if the situation warrants it.

>>826 That's a cool story. Where do you live by the way?

>>826 My father was also kidnapped when I was a kid. I never saw his captors. His captivity lasted a few months, but I wasn't made aware of the situation; at the time, my mother simply told me that he was on a 'business trip'. One day, with the family gathered in anticipation, he came back home, and he was so malodorous and unkempt that I distinctly remember resisting his efforts to hug and kiss me, for his untidy beard was itchy; meanwhile, all the other present members of the family were congratulating and embracing him, though back then I didn't understand why. I must admit that I haven't pressed him too much to speak of this affair, but he seems relatively unaffected by it. He has said, in his own language, naturally, that his immediate captors were "good lads" and that they were there for "to protect him". My father, perhaps like any other man, is a mixture of lights and shadows, for it seems to me that he has his fair share of both virtues and vices. In any case, I cherish him and we are in good terms, but it oftentimes seems to me that he is the one putting the effort in maintaining our relation, for I'd drift away naturally from him, due to my unsociality.

>>829 >Where do you live by the way? I live in Venezuela. >>830 That's weird, I didn't expect to find someone with such a similar story as mine. It's quite sad how common this situation is. I must confess, at first, I found your case pretty strange, but now I believe you mother did the right thing by not telling you that your father was kidnapped. Most kid aren't prepared to deal with such a scenario, so I guess she was trying to protect you and make things easier for everyone. However, I also think she should have told you the truth when he was released. Out of curiosity, how old were you when that happened? >He has said (...) that his immediate captors were "good lads" and that they were there for "to protect him" My father used to say the same thing. I don't know much about the subject, but I suppose most kidnappers want to make sure that their hostages are healthy and safe. After all, that usually makes things run smoother. >it often times seems to me that he is the one putting the effort in maintaining our relation, for I'd drift away naturally from him, due to my unsociality I feel very identified with this part of your post. I believe I had a good relationship with my father, but it was all thanks to him. Like you, I've always been very asocial, so I never knew what to talk about with him.

>>831 >It's quite sad how common this situation is It seems that kindred blood means kindred problems, for we'd be countrymen if the Liberator yet lived, and it is, indeed, a sordid affair that many experience in these parts. All things considered, I would like to think us fortunate among those of our compatriots who suffered an instance of kidnapping; some fathers do not return. >Out of curiosity, how old were you when that happened? If memory serves me well, I was 6 years old when it happened. A few years later, as an adolescent, I was very much surprised when I heard my father talking to an uncle of mine about his kidnapping; my mother came in and subsequently told me the story.

>>834 >we'd be countrymen if the Liberator yet lived Well, I have to admit, I didn't expect that. It's a very pleasant surprise, though. >All things considered, I would like to think us fortunate among those of our compatriots who suffered an instance of kidnapping; some fathers do not return You're absolutely right. We're very lucky to be part of the percentage of people who have seen their families again. Not only that, we both only waited a few months to see our respective fathers safe and sound. >If memory serves me well, I was 6 years old when it happened You were very young when that happened. That explains why you mother decided to keep the truth from you. If I remember right, I was 8 years old when my father was kidnapped.

>>826 >>830 Wow, that's incredible that there are 2 mages who have experienced such an ordeal, what are the chances? I know that both of you have said you didn't put as much effort into the relationship with your fathers, but did it ever change the relationship you had, either immediately or years down the line when you realised what he had gone through?

>>849 I'd think it led to a subtle, gradual change along the years. I had always seen my father as a peaceful man, endowed with such a mild and tranquil disposition that I had thought him a stranger to these kind of ordeals up until then. Naturally, as a teenager, when I found out about it, my initial reaction was to think of it as somewhat "badass" or "hardcore". From there I began to curiously ask him about his youth, and I got to learn about some of his past ordeals, like how he once had to "sell" a small parcel he owned at gunpoint; or the time he was a smuggler of electronics in the frontier; or when he gambled away his inheritance (and that of all his brothers) in a week. He even showed me an ornate knife, which he said he'd received from local paramilitaries, enemies of the group that had kidnapped him, as a "token" of future security; my mother would later throw it out, of course, for she disliked the memory. In the end, part of my childlike innocence was shattered, but I think it gave me a better appreciation of the man. It certainly led me to a new a new light in which to see my father, in particular, and all other old men, in general. After all, I began to consider that one tends to see them only in their twilight days, well downhill, ignoring what they've seen or done in their past.