My heart split down the middle between understanding and awareness of what my dad was to other people and the father he’d been to me. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to reconcile the paradox. But I realized I didn’t have to. I nodded to show him I’d heard. I thought he understood that I couldn’t tell him it was okay, that it’d never be okay, but that I could love him for the other memories he’d given me.
