Fathers

Everywhere I look .. I'm reminded of fathers. Was speaking with an old friend from grade school (and junior high and high school) who unfortunately is going through the misfortune of her father suffering from a mild heart attack. I surf the web, and come across BestGayBlogs that posted an excerpt about a father ... which all naturally leads me to think about mine.

I remember exactly what I was thinking when I came out to him. Boxing Day, we had a few a the bar and I just felt it was time to tell him. Would he be made? Angry? Disappointed? Happy? It was hard to say. But nevertheless, even upon not knowing .. I knew exactly what I was going to say if he was mad. I'd tell him he had no right in acting that way and no right in being angry simply because for the past 12 years he wasn't there. I was going to throw it in his face that I learned to shave on my own, I learned to tie my own shoes, I learned to change the car oil on my own. Everything a father should be, he wasn't and I learned it all on my own. I was going to let him know that I was angry at the fact that he asks to borrow more money from me than I do from him. I was going to, for once in my life, shout at him. I was going to scream that he lost all father rights and titles when he lifted his hand and striked my mother. I was going to angrily ask him "you lost everything because of your drinking and yet here you are, still drinking; why?" So much chaotic thoughts all on the assumption of his disapproving.

Until I told him, and he simply hugged me and said "I love you".

Why do I love him? Because no matter how much he can't do anything for me ... he still tries. If he could, he would. Everything I wanted to tell him .. he already knows. Everything I wanted to tell him, he already lives with. He realises how lucky he is that I still call him father.