this is my life

its been awhile.

my dad called me on thursday afternoon. i could tell something was wrong just by his constricted and sad sounding voice. "my father died today."

i immediately regretting being 6 hours away and not being able to be there for him. by the end of the day, tests, deadlines, classes, and work were on hold, and within 24 hours I was driving back to pittsburgh to be there. when i arrived home, his brother, george, was standing in my kitchen. it was the first time i had seen him in 7 years.

there's a lot of history between my dad, his dad, and the rest of his family. i know, what family DOESN'T have history? but this is a heavily convoluted history, dripping with years of resentment, jealously, and just downright bad play. without getting totally into it, 15 years or so ago my dad was alienated from his family. his dad, my grandfather, left my family and his brother's family waiting for him at our house on christmas morning. he never showed up. a few weeks later, he dumped (literally) the car my dad had bought his mom off in our street. keys in the seat, no note.

from that point forward, things were bad. fights broke out, later to be somewhat resolved in court. when we happened to run into eachother, you never left the 'meeting' feeling good.

9 years earlier, my dad's dad had a stroke. my dad's brother came back into our lives, but only for a small period of time.

and then i get the phone call yesterday. i immediately realize this isn't about me coming home to mourn a grandfather, for i never had one on that side. i know its more about me being home to support my dad, because with his dad's death it brought upon feelings of guilt, regret, and of course, the missing of a father.

its time for me to go, i am accompanying my dad to his father's house to find some of his things.