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Seven years ago I sat at my fathers deathbead waiting for the Hollywood moment. I told him that I loved him and forgave him and that I was sorry for how difficult our relationship had been. He tried to punch me and called me the dirty "C" word. The man was neglectful, abusive, selfish, cruel, miserable and mostly absent. I loved him deeply as all children do--craving his love and acceptance until the bitter end.
I lost a job during the time I spent at his bedside...I always think of that as somehow poetic...
My only solace was a lovely nurse who saw through the shit and kissed my forehead and told me I was a good daughter.
I have a 5 yr old son now. I can't change what happened in the past, but I can shape the future.
Peace and love.
