No regrets

It has been a very strange week.

It's true what they say about walking around in a haze after someone close to you dies. You truly do walk around in a fog.

Death, is a lot to process.

In the past 24 hours,

I have seen countless photos of my dad who I would not recognize on my own. That's my dad? Strange.

I knew dad was in the Air Force. I knew dad was a dental technician. I know dad was from Utah, and raised Mormon. And I knew trivial bits and pieces of who dad was, things I investigated, things I discovered accidentally pertaining to when he was a young man, but these photos I now have seen were taken after he became my dad.

When my dad met his (now) widow, dad was married with my brothers and me in tow.

When dad spent more time with his "other family" my brothers took it very hard. They felt abandoned, snubbed, and disgraced. I too was hurt but for different reasons. I was still a kid, not yet appropriate age to venture into the world unsupervised. I had questions and experiences that required a parent who had my best interest at heart, to help me process.

When I was 19 years old, I left MN. When dad discovered I packed my bags and jumped on a bus to CA he was furious. He didn't speak to me for a long time. And I was ok with that. Rebellious. Defiant. You don't get to pick and chose when to be a dad. I'm 19 years old. Legal age. I don't need you anymore. Where were you then?

But my brothers stayed home and stewed with anger all the way deep into their adult years. They're angry still. Our dad died last Wednesday, and they're still angry.

Reason being,

Dad's (now) widow posted over 100 photos on dad's memorial page of her children growing up with (I guess our) dad. In dad's obituary she wrote dad was survived by six children. Dad doesn't have six children. His (now) widow included her children as well. I wondered why she would do that until...

Seeing all those photos of my dad and her children stirred some old feelings. No doubt stirred feelings with my brothers. My oldest brother, who has all our family photos, could have added our photos to dad's memorial page but declined, leaving most of the pictures on dad's memorial page of his (now) widow and her children. My oldest brother chose not to include us.

It seems, according to the photos posted on dad's page, dad was more involved with her children when they were all quite young. Really young. Where was their father? Are these kids all her children she had with her ex husband?

For me, personally, nothing really shocks me anymore. You could tell me my dad fathered two of her kids, and I wouldn't be surprised. Actually it sure would explain a lot. And, now, really, who cares?

Growing up, I never wanted for anything. Dad provided. But the only thing I wanted while growing up was knowledge and life experiences. Seriously. It sounds dumb but that's all I wanted. I couldn't feed my brain and body fast enough. I didn't want the ten speeds or the toys. I wanted to feed my curiosities. I was beyond thirsty. I can see where some people might think I was ungrateful. Dad gave you all this and you didn't want any of it.

You can't force people to have what they don't want, and be happy.

Today's Gay Pride, in West Hollywood.

I'm gonna get my glow stick on and celebrate the living. It took a lifetime but the dad I knew and loved before he died wouldn't want it any other way.