Today is Father's Day in my country. I woke up thinking of the relationships I went through in my life and realised that none of them made good dads in the end.
They betrayed their spouses and abandoned their children.
Then I thought about my own father. He stayed with my mother until he died, but he was unfaithful while they were together. He had multiple short affairs with women, some of whom we knew.
He was also abusive to us, most of all me, being the introverted not so girly girl he fathered.
On this day when I try to think of any good or memorable things we had with him as children, I only remember his tale of long ago like his great grandfather's time and about our traditions.
His mother was a shaman, or medicine woman. They looked the same, cruel lips, sharp eyes, fierce. They hated each other. More so when my grandmother took me in at age 10 or 11.
He was my father though and he fed us and kept a roof over our head, clothed us etc and for that Im grateful. I think of him this day with compassion. Thank You , Vincent, father.