And just to further illustrate the conflicting emotions I have about my dad (for reasons other than the ones already mentioned), I'll share this...
At my wedding, the song I used for my father-daughter dance was Teach Your Children by Crosby, Stills and Nash. I thought the lyrics were very fitting for the way I feel about my dad:
You, who are on the road,
Must have a code that you can live by.
And so, become yourself,
Because the past is just a good bye.Teach your children well,
Their father's hell did slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams,
The one they picks, the one you'll know by.Don't you ever ask them why,
If they told you, you will cry,
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.And you, of tender years,
Can't know the fears that your elders grew by.
And so please help them with your youth,
They seek the truth before they can die.Teach your parents well,
Their children's hell will slowly go by.
And feed them on your dreams,
The one they picks, the one you'll know by.Don't you ever ask them why,
If they told you, you will cry,
So just look at them and sigh
And know they love you.
A different song for thought...
The Things We've Handed Down
Marc Cohn
Don't know much about you
Don't know who you are
We've been doing fine without you
But, we could only go so far
Don't know why you chose us
Were you watching from above
Is there someone there that knows us
Said we'd give you all our love
Will you laugh just like your mother
Will you sigh like your old man
Will some things skip a generation
Like I've heard they often can
Are you a poet or a dancer
A devil or a clown
Or a strange new combination of
The things we've handed down
I wonder who you'll look like
Will your hair fall down and curl
Will you be a mama's boy
Or daddy's little girl
Will you be a sad reminder
Of what's been lost along the way
Maybe you can help me find her
In the things you do and say
And these things that we have given you
They are not so easily found
But you can thank us later
For the things we've handed down
You may not always be so grateful
For the way that you were made
Some feature of your father's
That you'd gladly sell or trade
And one day you may look at us
And say that you were cursed
But over time that line has been
Extremely well rehearsed
By our fathers, and their fathers
In some old and distant town
From places no one here remembers
Come the things we've handed down