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I don't know exactly why, but somehow this year I feel like sharing my story. I am reminded this Father's Day yet again of my own father, who beat my mother in front of me and my younger brother until the cops arrived (this happened often). Then he disappeared when I was 9. Of course, Mom never saw a dime of child support.
Then out of the blue, when I was 22, I got a phone call from him. My brother and I - more out of curiosity than anything - went and saw him. It was just weird, although he was on his best behavior. We chatted awkwardly and left after less than an hour. My brother (two years younger) was cold as ice; I felt sympathy for a life wasted.
We talked in vague terms of a picnic sometime, but nothing came of it. Six months later, I got a call from the county coroner. He had died of a sudden heart attack. Could I come down to the morgue and identify his body?
I did. And that was the extent of my relationship with my father. I then had to straighten out his affairs. Wasn't hard. His possessions were few (he lived on his WWII veteran's pension). His wallet had all his money in it - 20 bucks.
And it was also filled with pictures of my brother and me as little kids.
So all of you with fathers who worked hard for you might want to give them a special thanks today, even given their multiple and sometimes mystifying imperfections.
My grown daughter did that for me today. My father in a backhanded fashion taught me the importance of fatherhood, and I took that lesson to heart.
Happy Father's Day, my fellow devoted Dads.
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