Grieving While Estranged

My father in the grey suit, yours truly in the middle, my mother in the sassy red blazer, with our godson and his wonderful mother. I think I was nine or ten here, judging by the terrible haircut.

My father was a good man, though he had many faults. I’m probably describing 90% of the world’s population, but it’s the first line that comes to mind when I think about him. He was at least partially responsible for the person that I am today, and, for that, I will always be grateful. I will always thank him for the good, the bad and the horrible.