Yesterday was Father's Day.
Normally, I would feel a tumble of emotions regarding fathers. Last Thanksgiving, my father was in the hospital with heart failure. He's still alive today, but no more of a father to me than he was when I was 3...or 8...or 13...or 28.
This year, it's a little different. This year, I don't hate him.
I don't love him, but I don't hate him.
It may not be enough to be considered progress. But I hope that's something.
I did, however, celebrate with my grandfather. I love him like I imagine I would love my father. And that's more than enough for me.
I love you, Grandpa. Happy Father's day.
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