A conversation with Dad.

I don’t talk to my Dad much on the phone, but I had been hoping I would get the opportunity to speak to him today. I had been listening to a radio program about fathers and the impact they can have on their children. My father and my relationship has been a bit stormy at times, but I really wanted to make some time to find out what he had been up to and let him know that I was glad to have him in my life. We must have had the longest conversation that we had in a long time. After last December, I don’t take too lightly the fact that I even have the opportunity to speak with him.

Sometimes kids and parents don’t talk because the kids spend a long time waiting for the parents to be there for them, to come through for them, and so many times that never happens. The thing I feel like I recently learned is that I have to do my part to ensure, to the extent that I am able, that a relationship happens. Making the first move and sometimes a second and third move until the walls between us come down. Until healing happens. Not perfection, but healing. It’s something how the reality of loss refines ones priorities. At least mine, anyway. 

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