My Father1922-1995
My father and I had a terrible relationship. Like a boy holding a chick, tighter and tighter, the chick trying in vain to get away, the grip became tighter and tigher until one crushed the other. In someways I really believe that he wanted me to know how much he loved me, but ever time he tried to make the point it just made me recoil. He crushed my spirit, but I survive.
If we shared anything, it was that we loved each other, but we didn't like one and other.
you're lucky that you can write anything complimentary about your father. sadly, the best i can do (for mine) is...well, he's' dead!
ReplyDeleteMy father literally used to put me in chokeholds. There wasn't love so much as control. I noted he treated the the kids like he treated the dogs - with conditional affection. On his deathbed he called me a "cocksucker". No love lost and I'm glad he's dead.
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