My Father: Darius
As is true in the beginning of most unions my young mother adored her strong and handsome husband. Their time alone was cherished. He adored her as well and gave her every attention possible when two are in the beginning of a new union. That is true and accurate. What is also true and accurate is that the first, initial adoration between the two was short lived. Darius had a shorter span of adoration than most men of his stature and when mother became with child – me – father began to show attention to other women quite quickly.
But this story is not of my mother’s treatment. Rather this is the story of Darius. The side unseen by human eye. This is true of most great ones who are only chronicled by their enemies for historical purposes. So this story of Darius is the side unseen.
We began with his journey out of the wood. Post battle. Separated from his men. He was the leader then of that battle. His men were decimated. He was alone. He journeyed past the field of the benevolent landowner who befriended him. Joined his household through his recovery. And married the eldest, most beautiful of the landowner’s daughters. That much we have said.
What was not yet shared is that these moments with this benevolent host and his gracious family changed the life of the Great Darius sure and well. Darius was treated with kindness and respect but this was not the luxury and constant support of which he was accustomed as the son of a king.
It was on this bucolic land that my father gained insight into the human condition. It was on this plot of farmland that my father gained insight into the ingenuity and possibilities of the human mind. It was in this healing and rustic environment my father created his vision for the future of Persia.
It is true my father was the third king of Persia in his immediate line. It is true and accurate that his title known far and wide was ‘King of Kings’. This was not a self-given title by those who reigned before him. The title was the gift of the ancient Asian empire of Zheng to my father’s third father before.
Darius grew in these moments of solace to be a thinking man. To imagine the great possibilities that innovation and architecture could bring to Persia. He imagined buildings and bridges and even boats as he healed his body.
Returning now to his time of my birth, Darius was a strong and influential guide in my upbringing yet he left the daily duties of care and decisions to my mother. By my first year my father had already taken another bride and created new life within her. My mother was not slighted by this move as the bride was her own dear sister.
The country estate was booming with family and friends and Darius was well pleased. It was from here that he met with his advisors to plan the great cities of Persia. These cities are known Persepolis. Tynad, Senchort. Lesser known are Tylama, Bagzhat, Meliopor. All lost to historical function now. Deserted and desert. But known and loved in our lifetime.
To continue with the pleasing perspective of Darius. He was strong. Vital. Innovative. Loyal to his bloodline. Considerate of the women in his life. Discrete. Temperate. And often solemn. His story is told by those who feared him and by more who abhorred him. As is true of most great ones, the absolute story is rarely known.
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