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Actually, *he* called me. I feel (and I hesitate to characterize it this way, but I will anyway) somewhat vindicated. Although he is still rather boastful and even a bit pompous, the circumstances of his past 20 years have pulled him a bit more down to earth (he is living in a fifth wheel somewhere in the drylands of Northern California and working on a water drilling rig - at the age of 70!).
At this late date in life, I doubt very much that I will ever unload all the shit in my head about him. The deep-rooted resentment of his choice to cop out as a parent will be with me forever, I fear...or at least as long as I choose to remain a parent and don't run screaming myself.
In the end, it was good to talk to him, and to make promises to keep in touch this time. I sent him pictures of his grandson and great grandson. We'll see what, if any, effect that has on his POV.
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"To those of you who are wearing ties, I think my dad would appreciate it if you took them off." - Robert Moog
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