Dad’s been on my mind today. Not sure exactly what set it off, but yeah. I’m wishing I’d written down some of his stories, or better yet, recorded him telling some of them. Not like I didn’t have an iPhone to record it on.
He’s not really my dad. My dad was a piece of shit. The guy I call dad was actually my best friend’s dad. Had I followed after my actual “father“‘s example, I’d be a worse person that I am now. Dad actually taught me what a real man is, and how to be a good person.
I’m having hell wording this out.
He’s been gone a little over 6 years. Cancer. Just like my mom. Just like my grandma. Cancer takes the wrong ones. Cancer damages the wrong people, physically and emotionally.