I never post here anymore
I honestly rarely log in, but I had no where else to put this.Â
Today my son is 843 days old, which is exactly how old I was the day my father died. I’ve been thinking about this a lot as the day has approached and I don’t know if there’s any real significance to it, but there’s two salient points that have come to mind.
1) Having never really known my father, I never gave much thought to how much he actually knew me. Mind you my son’s only 2 years old, but he asks questions, laughs at jokes, and every day he amazes me with his rapidly increasing understanding of the world. Seeing him grow and develop a personality gives me some window into what my father knew of me. Â
2) I’ve always kind of harbored some probably unwarranted almost certainly unhealthy animosity against my father for dying and leaving my mom and I alone. Those unresolved issues have always been one of the biggest motivators for me, at least internally, for being the best father I can be. I’ve been viewing this day as sort of a finish line, like hey I beat his record, when really it’s anything but. Taking care of myself and being around to grow old with my family feels even more important now as I begin to understand the scope of how little time my dad had with his family.Â
