The resistance path

I will not write too much about my dad yet. I tend to be fairly careful about what I say on this 'blog-candid yes, but also protective. Some deep feelings should not be shared with strangers, even in this age of exhibitionism. All I will do tonight, before talking tomorrow about some of the stories from "Mommy Wars" is to say that in spite of my many imperfections, much regretted now, I do believe my dad always loved me. And forgave me. Even when I'm not sure I deserved it. Kinda like our heavenly Father. Not that Dad was a saint. Not at all. But a parent's love for a child, while sometimes critical, is profound. A mystery. Thank you for loving me, Dad-sometimes in spite of what I was. Hopefully more often because of it.