This is the man

From 2004 when I over for a visit:

I leave in about an hour. This could be the last time I see Dad. Maybe not. I’ve thought the same thing whenever I’ve left since 1989. One day it will be true.

Dad was 46 when I was born. My parents were separated by the time I went to school. Dad moved to England by the time I was 10. We’ve had contact since, but part of my wonders why I care. I must fulfill my duty, but caring is something entirely different.

Dad is flawed. He rants. He has done the most unspeakable things to members of my family. I won’t even describe them here…

I asked Dad this week if he had good memories of his childhood. He said no. He said he tried to give us the childhood that he never had. I’d say he got only partway there…

I’ll soon be on my way. Bye, Dad.