I know that you and your family can't eat words of encouragement, but for what it's worth I enjoy your writing a lot, and I hope you keep doing it and that whatever slump you may be in currently passes quickly.
If I didn't know any better, I could swear your dad was related to my dad. As the functional junior to my father's senior? He loved me, his daughter, way more than anyone or anything else. But there is a flaw to that legacy, and that ended in my father dying in prison due to a first degree murder conviction in 2004. I was in Iraq when he committed that murder, and even though I had mad cash to get a great lawyer for him? He was like nah, I did it so. Even after the series of mistakes I made to find myself in the 3ID thunder run to Baghdad, he was proud of me. Once I got the big boy scientist job, he practically beamed. His path and my path are scarily the same: combat vet, did a longer stint in the army, go be a correctional officer... and that's where we differ.
it’s true, “save your money” is something my dad would’ve said in precisely that scenario. He also wanted me to “do better,” especially in those situations where he had a chance but always (seemingly on purpose!) made the wrong choice. No wonder we got along.
"He was blessed with bigness, but it was a big nothingness. He covered up this lack with a veneer of masculine aggression that almost killed me — and following a series of heart attacks, finally killed him. He grasped for the words to explain this empty ache in one of his final missives to me. . . " What a painful legacy he left for you. I'm sorry for what you had to endure.
See, I don't talk much about my parents, but I also don't talk to them anymore.
a key distinction!
I know that you and your family can't eat words of encouragement, but for what it's worth I enjoy your writing a lot, and I hope you keep doing it and that whatever slump you may be in currently passes quickly.
Comments like these help motivate me to keep working!
If I didn't know any better, I could swear your dad was related to my dad. As the functional junior to my father's senior? He loved me, his daughter, way more than anyone or anything else. But there is a flaw to that legacy, and that ended in my father dying in prison due to a first degree murder conviction in 2004. I was in Iraq when he committed that murder, and even though I had mad cash to get a great lawyer for him? He was like nah, I did it so. Even after the series of mistakes I made to find myself in the 3ID thunder run to Baghdad, he was proud of me. Once I got the big boy scientist job, he practically beamed. His path and my path are scarily the same: combat vet, did a longer stint in the army, go be a correctional officer... and that's where we differ.
it’s true, “save your money” is something my dad would’ve said in precisely that scenario. He also wanted me to “do better,” especially in those situations where he had a chance but always (seemingly on purpose!) made the wrong choice. No wonder we got along.
"He was blessed with bigness, but it was a big nothingness. He covered up this lack with a veneer of masculine aggression that almost killed me — and following a series of heart attacks, finally killed him. He grasped for the words to explain this empty ache in one of his final missives to me. . . " What a painful legacy he left for you. I'm sorry for what you had to endure.
A very, very, very complicated person. I’m glad to have grow up to be far less complicated.