When I still lived at my parents house my dad used to wake up early and watch tv in the living room. I’d wake up and go sit with him. But I was already annoyed. He would turn off he tv and ask me about my life. And I’d get annoyed. He just wanted to know me. To know what was going on with me. To talk to his daughter. To connect. But i would be short and cold with him and then leave the room. I wanted to be near him but also angry with him and I had no idea how to process what I was feeling.
What a selfish little jerk I was. How lucky I was that he wanted to know me and talk to me. So many kids can’t say that about their dad.
I wish I had been able to appreciate that and my dad when I was younger. Instead of holding him to an impossible standard and being angry for all the ways he fell short. Instead of always siding with my mom.
I miss him terribly. I wanted to call him today just to talk. To hear his voice. He was wise. And for all the ways he was imperfect as a man, he was very gentle and quiet and thoughtful. He was kind. He enjoyed taking to people. He loved telling jokes. I don’t think there was a single time that I called home and he didn’t ask “who is this?”
It is hard to know how lucky we are sometimes. We often don’t reflect until it’s too late. Or when something sad happens and we lose someone or something we love. But if you can know your luck when you have it you can take every advantage of the precious moments and love and connection it can bring.
