This news makes me so sad. It's sad his mortality is real. He has not looked well for awhile, and I knew the day would come, but now it's happening and there's nothing that will stop it. He will die. Maybe not for even a few more years, but one day I will get a call and he will be dead.
My father is a difficult person to understand and often a difficult person to be around. He suffers from some form of mental illness, and sometimes I think this fact, that fact that we don't know what it is or have a name for it, makes it even harder for me to deal with. Growing up his actions were always just labeled as weird or crazy, but now, as an adult, it is clear that it is more than just weirdness- it is illness.
I'm not sure if it would have made it any easier on the family if his problems were diagnosed, but for me personally, it would help to know what areas of his brain are damaged or not working properly, and how that effects his behavior. Mental illness is not something people like to deal with, but I think it does more harm than good, for both the person and their family, if it is not confronted realistically. I wish there was less name calling using the term crazy, and more acceptance of it as a fact- and out of his control. I believe this would help everyone accept him as he is, and yes maybe make allowances for certain behaviors, but only due to an understanding and an acceptance of his illness.
Today on the phone with him, I felt for a moment he was there. That he was really listening to me. I could feel love in his voice and happiness that I called. I love this side of my dad- and I am beginning - just barely- to accept the other parts of him as well. It may be taking me 30 years and I am lucky he is still alive, because for the first time I am beginning to accept that some of his fault are out of his control and some of them are not- but all in all he is my dad, my one and only dad, and I love him.
