Twelve years later, while trying to offer my mom some comfort during the funeral, I think back on that day.

Things didn’t go so great between dad and me after I started college, especially when I visited between semesters. I see now what an arrogant, snide and sarcastic little prick I was, mocking what he held dear, all in the name of “principle”. In general, I still believe in many of the same ideals I developed back then, but did I really have to be so sanctimonious about them? No wonder he kicked me out on my third visit. That’s when I made that childish decision to sever all ties with him, in my “righteous” anger.

I was so certain, so sure… so pigheaded. It took me a nearly a decade to finally accept that I was to blame for all of it, but even then, I was too ashamed to repair that bridge. I kept putting off that phone call I promised myself to make, until mom called me last week with the news.

Today, what I miss most is something that didn’t happen and never will, simply sharing a beer with my dad.

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