Here To Prove.
Posted: 13 Dec 2023, 16:32
Here To Prove
If you asked about my father around town you'd get one of two answers depending on who was answering the question.
Some would likely regale you about his exploits on the football field and the baseball diamond with varying levels of truth. He was really good, probably even great. They'd tell you about all the scholarship offers. They'd tell you about how he won a state championship. The school records would surely be mentioned as well. Folks that went that route usually trailed off after that, wrapping things up with some sort of apology about what happend to him as though he was the victim.
Those who knew him on a more personal level would probably make a less than appealing face and tell you what an asshole he was and how he'd wronged them or someone they knew. You might hear about how poorly he'd treated my mother or myself. Maybe you would get a story about one of the many less than legitimate ways he had tried to make money.
I'd never known him very well so when he died I didn't feel much. As I grew older I started to feel like something was missing my life. I didn't particularly care for him but I longed for some sort of connection to him on some level. My mother and I had moved nearly to the other side of the country and he never made any effort when we lived in the same county so we definitely didn't hear from him once thousands of miles separated us.
I remember when my mother got the call from my grandmother that he was dead. I could tell it hit her hard but she stayed strong and told me then continued to encourage me to talk to her about him if I needed to or wanted to. I never felt the need. We moved on and months went by without either of us mentioning him. He wasn't there for us when he was alive so when he died it didn't change much for us.
Things all changed one day when my mother got another phone call.
If you asked about my father around town you'd get one of two answers depending on who was answering the question.
Some would likely regale you about his exploits on the football field and the baseball diamond with varying levels of truth. He was really good, probably even great. They'd tell you about all the scholarship offers. They'd tell you about how he won a state championship. The school records would surely be mentioned as well. Folks that went that route usually trailed off after that, wrapping things up with some sort of apology about what happend to him as though he was the victim.
Those who knew him on a more personal level would probably make a less than appealing face and tell you what an asshole he was and how he'd wronged them or someone they knew. You might hear about how poorly he'd treated my mother or myself. Maybe you would get a story about one of the many less than legitimate ways he had tried to make money.
I'd never known him very well so when he died I didn't feel much. As I grew older I started to feel like something was missing my life. I didn't particularly care for him but I longed for some sort of connection to him on some level. My mother and I had moved nearly to the other side of the country and he never made any effort when we lived in the same county so we definitely didn't hear from him once thousands of miles separated us.
I remember when my mother got the call from my grandmother that he was dead. I could tell it hit her hard but she stayed strong and told me then continued to encourage me to talk to her about him if I needed to or wanted to. I never felt the need. We moved on and months went by without either of us mentioning him. He wasn't there for us when he was alive so when he died it didn't change much for us.
Things all changed one day when my mother got another phone call.
