Hopeful for Regret

My father chose to skip his sister’s funeral. He had reasons. I call them excuses. Symantics aside, this is an undoable act. He can never get the opportunity to say goodbye back. More importantly, he lost moments, so many moments to cry, to laugh, to hug, to kiss, to bond with the family he still has.
I thought I had gotten use to disappointment in my father. I have always tried to take solice in the amazing family, so many wonderful people, I call my relations. I have been blessed. What is a disappointing father compared to all of them?
Then he finds a new way to break our hearts. I am glad though because each new ache means I haven’t given up. My heart can still break because it is still hopeful and heals and loves.
And more than my problems with his behavior, I wonder about his. I wonder if, and hope when, he realizes what he has missed and lost because of his own weakness, he will regret. Because we, his family, are pretty amazing.

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