Kate and I went to have dinner with Irene and my dad this past Friday.
My dad is old now. he’s gone from a person who i’ve loved, hated, respected, to one of those old people who has a hard time hearing, whose hand shakes, who talks about being old.
all this time i’ve spent resenting him, all those years i didn’t hardly talk to him at all. and now he’s old. the life is draining out of him, it seems. how much longer do i have with him. why does it make me sad for several days after seeing him. why have i wasted so much time, and why is it still hard to spend time together.
what does this mean about me. I’ve never really felt like an adult. I’ve always on some level felt like a son, someone who’s fooling everyone into thinking i’m a responsible adult with taxes and rent and priorities and a 401k and fancy shoes. how much of this is due to my relationships with my parents…what does it mean when he’s gone?
christ, someday he’ll be gone.
anyway, he’s old. it’s not an act. he’s not faking. he never learned how to not have to drown out the voices inside, the opportunities around the internet, the connection….all the things i’m interested in.
christ, someday he’ll be gone.
I remember thinking about this as a teenager, and then realizing that i wont have to deal with it until my mid-30s at least, probably.
Well, here I am.