My father once said,

“I don’t care if you love me,

as long as you respect me.”

My father once said,

“If you go to war I’ll pray for your death.”

My father once cursed me, in response

to my answer to his question,

“Why do you think I spent all that money on you?”

I replied,

“Because I thought you loved me.”

He cursed me.

His only son.

I love you, Dad.

It’s my way of being just as tough as you, my own way of clasping hands with you against all the mealy mouthed losers who say because they didn’t get enough love then they get all the love now, because someone hurt their feelings then they deserve whatever they want forever and ever Amen.

To hell with them.

What other gifts do you have for me, my Father?

What others lessons do you have to teach?

Only this.

My father once said, “If you run a race and you have enough energy to take one step beyond the finish line, you haven’t run hard enough.”

He died working in his hospital bed.

I love you, Dad.

I always did.

I always will.

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