Sorry man. hoping for the best.
Not sure what to feel about what I just heard. My father died.
I never knew the man, never met him, never talked to him. Seen one picture of him years ago. He was gone from my life before I was born. Claimed I wasn't his kid. there was some court battle. in the end it was all just dropped and he was gone. My mother got married. He called her once, some time later. they talked, he asked how I was. that was it.
I knew OF him. I knew my step father wasn't my real dad from a young age. knew the story about what happened. Never had any interest in contacting him. I guess if he had contacted me i would have talked to him. I'll admit to mild curiosity. but most of that was for his other 5 kids. but never enough to take to the initiative. I never hated him. didn't know him well enough for that. I was always indifferent. and never thought about him unless the subject came up.
My cousin, who her and my mom was like sisters since childhood, and both were friends with him at the time, is who let me know. She had talked to him from time to time. apparently he would ask about me whenever they talked, but it seems never got far enough to actually try and make contact. and apparently it happened more so toward the end. guess he kind of knew it was coming. not sure what he died of, but it seems Alzheimers was one of his ailments. He was 64.
Not sad, not happy, just sort of neutral. it happened. guess I should feel something, but don't. maybe a bit sad for his family, but that's it. Honestly, my former neighbor was more of a father figure, and his passing effected me much more. He would take me to ball games, we would work on his car, or his house. hang out and watch his Syracuse college football or basketball games. just different stuff.
"The reason an author needs to know the rules of grammar isn't so he or she never breaks them, but so the author knows how to break them."