Complicated
I was sorting through photographs last week when I found it.
It's the day I graduated college. My mum, dad and I are standing on the deck. My mum and I are smiling at the camera, and my dad is looking at me.
The picture is still on my nightstand.
I have never needed proof of my parent's love. It has always been there in so many incalculable ways. But having that visual cue isn't just about having a reminder of what once was, or remembering that not so long after that picture was taken (within the same month even,) my father had the lung biopsy that revealed his ultimate killer.
Or that earlier that year, which had quite a bit of snow, my father decided to clear the driveway in his dress shoes, because he was worried my car wouldn't make it through. He ended up slipping and breaking his back, and not being able to drive. (Add that in to the countless late night rides home, the making sure he was there at times my mother could not be, and countless other things, as I said, no need for physical proof of love.)
What makes the picture important, is how clear it makes all the complications of the relationship.
My father was not always the best at life. He had a temper, and a mouth to match. He was stubborn and spiteful, and probably to the point of being verbally abusive. I made the choice many years ago to forgive, because I see so much of it in myself, and how hard it is not to be that person, and how hard he tried too. He was determined not to be his father, as I am determined not to entirely be him. I once thanked him for trying to be the best dad he could be.
He may have broken his back for me, but the picture tells me what was truly significant.
He tried to be a better person for me, and mostly succeeded.
The picture gives me hope that so can I.