My father and I talked for over 2 hours yesterday. That shouldn't sound so amazing, but, let me add that the TV was off, we weren't talking about the Mets, or about politics. We just talked. And it was wonderful. We talked about things we had never talked about before. And it was wonderful. We talked as equals. And it was wonderful.
We talked about the past and the present and the future. He sought my opinions and perspective and counsel. He told me about some of his fears and, while I wish greatly that he didn't have them, I am so glad that he shared them with me.
Most importantly, he told me that he is proud of me. I've wondered about this for a very long time. We've always been OK, but, there have been some pretty major things we've disagreed on. And, maybe, over the years, I've been a bit too sensitive when he's vocalized some of them. But, that's all in the past now. He is proud of me and there aren't enough words to explain how good that feels.
I love my father and always have, but yesterday was an exceptionally wonderful day....one that I'll remember for a very long time.