I read this story on Humans of New York this morning and was reminded that this is similar to how I feel about my dad, now. Same sort of “monster” feeling when he was in the house when I was a child, for many of the same reasons. But I loved him. And now….well….now he’s not quite helpless, nor curled up in a ball, but I am sure he never meant to grow up to be what he became, either. And one day he will be helpless, but I won’t be there. This makes me very sad, but there’s nothing for it–it’s what he has chosen, and it’s very unfortunate for both of us.
I appreciate stories like these, other people’s stories about things similar to my own experience, because they normalize our experiences, and remind me that I am not the only one in the world who has been through this kind of thing. This makes me feel less lonely, even though I don’t know this man. But I feel a kinship to him and to all the other people with this shared experience.
Life is good, and I am grateful.
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