Feb
13
2012
My Dad was dead twelve years and I was still angry at him. I still remember the last conversation I had with him and he said he was more impressed with the million dollars his future son-in-law made selling his company than anything I did. My writing did not matter to him. I tried to tell him, maybe, my words might have more effect on people than the money my future brother-in-law made. It was to no avail. Money meant more to him than anything else. I never got “the blessing” from him. And even today, years later I was still angry about his rejection of who I was. He was the one person I wanted to please. And he just could not do it. And even now years later the hurt and pain had not gone away.
