Goodbye Father

There is an irony to my fathers passing... died of a broken heart.. something alot of us in the family questioned he ever had... he wasn't a bad man, just made some of the worse decisions... it could be chalked up to Vietnam getting him hooked on heroine and a thirst for more agent orange.. noone will ever know,.. I remember from my earliest years, noone in the family trusted him, he'd stolen countless things from them in the past to fuel his heroine addiction.. there were times when he was clean, and things might have felt normal, if they only would have lasted more then a couple months at a time every few years.. the time spent in jail from various heroine related incidents would always have him clean momentarily, albeit with a new bit of racism each visit, at least until one of his old buddies would get wind of him being out and inevitability would swing by to drag him back down.. but in those random months... I felt he cared, just in an odd selfish way, there was never a strong bond with him, until he passed, the morning of his passing, I felt something was wrong.. unsure what to pinpoint it on, I checked my email and there it was, an email missed from my grandma.. his heart was failing and he was in the hospital, after talking to the hospital staff, they told me he probably had a few days left, ringed my grandma and she said she'd get ready to go up and see him before he passes... not ten minutes after letting her go to get ready, she called back saying he passed away.. such an odd feeling knowing that was about to happen... he talks to me now as I lay in bed at night waiting to drift off to sleep.. showing me various images in the clouds of my eyelids... I haven't felt this close to him in my life. I've always had a sort of resentment towards him for not taking care of my sister's or myself as a parent should have, it wasn't one thing,.. quite the culmination of things... the nightly bearings until I couldn't cry anymore and passed out from exhaustion.. which gave me the strength never back down from a challenge, to fight when picked on in school for being 'the poor kid'.. then there was the times I just had to use a bathroom, only to walk in to a needle in an arm and a comatose 'nodding out' parent.... which gave me the strength to handle difficult situations most would crumble under.. he did love,.. his women,.. he thought he was some sort of "the man", his confidence and carisma reflecting things a man should be to a woman, if for just a moment.. mirroring that, I've become confident in myself and by watching and listening, I caught on to his carisma in my own way.
Despite all the flaws in your ways dad, you did a good job.