dad. dad. dad. dad!

I know I can be distracted, in my own head. I know I can not hear things even when people are speaking directly to me, because I’m concentrating on something else, consumed by the thoughts. I know that my family bears this most of all, and I know that they are used to it.

I hope it’s not something they mark me by, remember about me. “Hey, remember how Dad used to just ignore us? Like, not even hear us?” I can hear the words as they laugh while reminiscing later in life. But, I know John and I have had laughs over Dad’s behavior, and, thinking about it, the things we chuckle on aren’t likely character traits he’d introduce himself with or claim with pride. “Hey, remember how dad was so non-confrontational? How Mom always had to be the one to bring the hammer down?”

I guess our kids know the best and worst of us and they’re gonna reminisce about both

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