I had an interesting morning.
My father called, and we had maybe the best, most meaningful conversation we’ve ever had. It was about the idea of me moving back in with my boyfriend and trying to make that relationship work.
I won’t go into the details; suffice it to say that I know now beyond a doubt that my dad loves me, wants me to be happy, and is behind me no matter what.
It makes me cry a little every time I think of this conversation. My dad and I didn’t always get along when we were both younger, and I wish we could have been this good with each other all our lives. Better late than never, but still. And it really hurts that my mother didn’t live to see me and my dad being so good to each other. That would have made her so happy.