Random Ramblings

This is the first Father's day since my father died. I was wondering if it would be hard, like maybe it would finally hit me that he's gone. Instead I find myself curiously detached. I'm intellectually going over why this may be, this lack of emotion. Possibly because he chose his girlfriend over my sister and me. Possibly because my maternal Grandfather was far more like a Dad to me than my father ever really was. I mean, my father was my dad until I went off to college the first time around, but even in college Grandpa was more of a Dad. I've lived a life and a half beyond the years when my father was a dad. Grandpa walked me down the aisle for my wedding. He adored Andy, whereas my father only stepped outside once to meet Andy, not even inviting him into the garage, let alone the house... or his heart.

I guess the one thing I do feel, though again more intellectually than anything, is a faint notion that there is now no chance of ever re-establishing any relationship with my father. Up until October 8th 2020 (actually October 5th, since we didn't find out about it until three days afterward, so for those three days I still thought there was a chance. Schrödinger's father, of sorts.) there was always that chance. Now there is not.