As for the wonderful article, it’s just that: Thoughtful, touching, introspective and articulate. There comes a time when most of us realize that our parents are just (in 90% of the cases) average people. Nothing special other than that they fucked and one of them got pregnant with us. And that’s not really that special, either. They’re not trained as parents, not expert, and certainly no better at interpersonal relationships than anyone else. We look to them for advice on things that they’ve no business commenting on, let alone steering us. Their advice is often worse than that strangers would offer. Their knowledge of the world limited to whatever biased media source they down on a daily basis. And yet, we love them because they’re what we’ve got. And we forgive them for their trespasses when we get old enough to really understand the incredible scope of their limitations.

My dad? Pretty fucking shitty, like so many. Didn’t really know him much at all until the last couple weeks of his life when I got a call to help him down morphine every four hours until he took the long nap. In going through his belongings I learned that he was gay… which explained an awful lot. Through that new lens I was able to forgive him soooo much. And release a whole, whole lot of bitterness. The fucking dude never got a chance to be himself until he was well into his 60s (when his macho father died). I’m shortcutting a lot here because this comment is longer than the post and far less interesting. Point is, being a shitty dad didn’t make him a shitty person. He wrestled with issues that drove him to drink oceans of scotch and live much like a mountain dwelling hermit… in downtown Sacramento. Not a good profile for engaged fatherhood.

Thanks, D, for writing this. Really centered me tonight.