Tokens.
It has come to my attention that I lost more than my father in his passing.
We talked before he died, sure, but it was pretty superficial. We never had heart-to-hearts in our lives and, even when he knew he wasn’t long for this world, we just pragmatically made up and let the old wounds go.
My problems with him are/were mine, not his. He felt the same about me and we shared as much when he was in the hospital.
But I’ve been reading some of the posts from his old friends on his online obituary page and … it’s spooky, really. This person whom I didn’t really know much about seems to have a lot in common with me.
I thought my gifts were from my mother.
Now I want to make a documentary. Not just about him, but about me as well. His friends and family, my friends and family, juxtaposed and with parallels if they exist.
I’m beginning to think they do.
Have camera, might travel.