Date: December 30, 2019 08:17PM
Fifty-seven years ago today, I lost my father to the same disease his grandson is now on dialysis for.
I can remember thinking as I watched the funeral home people take him away that from now on, there would be nobody to run interference between me and my domineering mother. He was a kind and gentle person, and I will never know what he saw in her. But there is no question that there was a very deep love between the two of them.
She was absolutely crushed by his death, tried to self-medicate with alcohol, and became even more wretched to live with. There was little, if any, genuine affection between Mother and me. We got along much better after I moved far away.
I wish I could believe that I will see my Dad again, one day.