I was recently reminded of.......

Quite a few things actually, but the one that stands out the most is the relationship I had with my dad the last few years he was alive,

We didn't have the greatest relationship when I was growing up, maybe it was one of those teenage things, maybe it was that he had a full time job and always had a part-time job to make ends meet, or maybe we just didn't get along.

I remember things always had to be "his" way and I can't tell you the number of times as a kid that I heard if you don't like it you can get out, that's pretty close to what I did the day I turned 18, moved out and watched 3 years later as my brother was "tossed" out.

Fast forward 30 years and listen to him yelling that "she's not family so stay the *^%$) out" when we were moving granny to her new digs, read the email telling me that I've been dis-owned, written out of the will, never want's to see me or my family again, read the "annual" Christmas letter explaining that "we don't know what's going on with the kids as they have decided to not include us in their lives any longer"

WTH? I'm sure I was as bull-headed as he was on that point, but I sure don't remember being the one to pretend I was the "mafia" guy and utter the words "you're dead to me"

A couple of grandsons later, granny birthday's later and we get a phone call. "I hear we have 2 great grand children, and your mother would like to see them" WHAT? She would, not you?

Against my better judgment we break down, take the "boys" over to visit for a while and invite them over for Thanksgiving Dinner (the first one in 3 years with the folks)

It turned out to be a "civil" Thanksgiving, we made small talk, listened to him berate my mom for being forgetful (she had the beginning stages of dementia) and got updates on all of his ailments (he loved to talk about them)

We chatted a couple more times after turkey day, never a deep conversation more of idle chit chat on the phone, and we seemed to determine that we could live in the same town and at least be civil to each other.

Just a couple weeks later the call came that the ambulance had taken him to the hospital, he was concious long enough for me to tell him I loved him, and that I was sorry and forgave him for the past 3 years.

Fast forward 5 years.........Do I regret? Hell yes. Have I forgave him? Hell yes. Am I glad that I got to see him and talk to him one last time? Hell yes.

Moral of the story? It was what it was, nothing I could have done to change it, accept it as a learning experience and try not to do it to your own kids, don't write them off, maintain contact, don't cave in, don't shut down, try to co-exist and do what you know in your heart to be the best.

You never know when or what the last thing you say will be.