My dad would have turned 52 today but he isn’t. He’s eternal now and I think it’s better for him. Not that I don’t love him, quite the contrary. He was just a tortured soul that spent too much time in his self-made gutter to be able to soak the sun. So when he went I was relieved as well as shocked for we hadn’t spoken in a few years. Somehow though, a few months before he passed I came to grips with the fact that we might never see each other again before he departs this life.
It took me a while to process yet I was the same me I have always been. It was only a year ago that I forgave him(and more so myself) for the trauma and ‘lack’of love I had experienced as a child.
See, I’ve come to realize that everything has an expiry date in the material realms-friendships, civilizations, beer. And it’s cool. I finally learned to live with that and it was (mostly) thanks to my dad. He was never the good guy, but he was the anti-hero, which is still a hero. His difficulty in expressing emotion and lack of self-control were traits I might have once taken on, but with time came to understand and release because they weren’t serving me. He never hated me or wanted to mistreat me in any way-even if it looked like he did. He hated himself and subconsciously wanted to push me away and show me what not to be like. And though that is not the dad people want-it might be the one I needed.
For today I am stronger and wiser because I know love sometimes lets go. I know love cannot thrive if the person doesn’t love themselves first. I know true love is eternal and a thought away. The connection and friendship we had even for a short time, though riddled with comical downfalls of his dignity, was a lesson for both of us.
I would never be the person I am today without my family and all the things they show me and have put me through, whether good or bad.