My mother has always been warm and supportive, and I'm lucky to count her as one of my best friends. She's always been there when the chips are down and I damned well try to do the same for her.
My biological father was a shitbag. Mom left him when I was 3; he was a wife-beater and she had better things to do. That included marrying my adoptive father -- my dad and not my father, if you get my drift. They raised me and my sister, and inculcated in us simple values -- integrity, accountability, loyalty.
My dad and I had a rough relationship through my youth. I felt I could never please him, and carry that baggage to this day. He always thought I was a little soft, I think, a little too forgiving, and wanted me to be hard and stoic like he was. I'm stoic, make no mistake, but not hard; my emotions run close to a controlled surface, and can be pulled up with ease by anyone who really knows me. I'm no chip off his block and don't want to be -- I saw that how he ate his feelings left him stultified. I prefer to let my emotions go, in one form or another -- music, writing, emotions shared with close friends -- because it feels right for me.
I still live my life trying to uphold most of his values. He was a racist, and thankfully my mom prevented him spreading that disease to me and my sis. As a father myself now, I've made a conscious effort to make sure my son knows I love him no matter what, something Dad didn't do with me.
I live not too far from mom now, because at her age, I want to be close for any emergency. We get together once or twice a week and listen to each other.
I'm a lucky man. Faults and foibles aside, I had goddamned good parenting, and to this day still work at living the values they instilled.
My biological father was a shitbag. Mom left him when I was 3; he was a wife-beater and she had better things to do. That included marrying my adoptive father -- my dad and not my father, if you get my drift. They raised me and my sister, and inculcated in us simple values -- integrity, accountability, loyalty.
My dad and I had a rough relationship through my youth. I felt I could never please him, and carry that baggage to this day. He always thought I was a little soft, I think, a little too forgiving, and wanted me to be hard and stoic like he was. I'm stoic, make no mistake, but not hard; my emotions run close to a controlled surface, and can be pulled up with ease by anyone who really knows me. I'm no chip off his block and don't want to be -- I saw that how he ate his feelings left him stultified. I prefer to let my emotions go, in one form or another -- music, writing, emotions shared with close friends -- because it feels right for me.
I still live my life trying to uphold most of his values. He was a racist, and thankfully my mom prevented him spreading that disease to me and my sis. As a father myself now, I've made a conscious effort to make sure my son knows I love him no matter what, something Dad didn't do with me.
I live not too far from mom now, because at her age, I want to be close for any emergency. We get together once or twice a week and listen to each other.
I'm a lucky man. Faults and foibles aside, I had goddamned good parenting, and to this day still work at living the values they instilled.
