I'll Give You the Stamp

“What are you so constantly writing on over there?” my Dad asked. I decided to be honest.

    “Just a… story I’m working on.”

    “Is it for school, or just for fun?”

    “Just because I felt compelled to write it,” I said, not wanting to say “The magician in my head wants me to” Can you imagine what he would say to that? Neither can I.

“Okay. You feel compelled to write it. Why don’t you feel compelled to publish it?”

“Well…” I laughed. “You don’t just publish things…”

He told me I’d never get published if I don’t send stuff in.

“I’ve read your stuff, and I liked it. I enjoyed reading it, and other people would, too. And. Just the fact that you finish writing them is something. That’s the hard part.” He paused. “So send ‘em in, okay?” He said, nudging one finger on my chin. “Heck, I’ll give you the stamp. Or you could send ‘em by email,” I smiled broadly. “Then all you need’s this finger.”

    There it is again… my dad telling me I can write. Telling me I could get published and make money. Does this mean… that my whole family supports me?

    My grandma just made a face at Dad behind his back and smiled at me.

    So I sat, typing the latest scene about the magician. Dad sat at my feet, leaning against my leg. I let him. I would normally flinch away. He startled me by tickling my toes, and I laughed. He played with my toes like I was five and still thought toes were the most amazing things in the world…

    Toes are pretty amazing, actually.

Earlier today, he told me I could always come home. He said "If we're livin' in a cardboard box under a bridge, I'll go get another box"

I hugged my father back for the first time today in I don't know how long. At least... 5 years. Twice, I hugged him. Only twice, and not the way I would hug a friend or my mother, but I did it. It was difficult... but I'm glad... it's a start.

    I want to let him back into my life. I’m not giving up on him. Our world views will probably always differ, but maybe someday I’ll like the word father.

You know, I wrote that... and then later, I remembered why I disliked him so much. Having to crack his neck and walk on his back... hearing him belittle my mother... rant about the Democrats...

Yeah. It's going to be a while.

But I'm still not giving up.