Sunday, June 16, 2013


For the last three years, my relationship with my father has been complicated.

Learning that your parents are human -- that they make shitty mistakes, that they can do awful things, that their head can crack open and their heart can beat incorrectly -- hasn't been an awesome lesson to learn.

And how lucky I am, to have spent my first 27 years in blissful ignorance and hero worship. Some kids never get that. They never get to blindly adore their dad because he is, quite simply, the best and would never hurt you, hit you, raise his voice or make you brush your hair on the days when Mom was putting in 12 hours at the hospital.

So maybe my dad isn't the guy I had made him out to be.

But that person doesn't exist. That perfection isn't real.

And I wouldn't trade in the one that I have, anyway.

He's my dad.

I am very lucky.


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