Grandpa Jack passed away yesterday. I can’t imagine what Dusty must be feeling losing dad and grandfather in such a short time. It’s only been about six months. I might have a greater attachment to this but then again, I might not. Mother said I don’t owe anything to Grandma Pauline or Grandpa Jack. I suppose she’s right. They were not my grandparents and John was…well what was John? When I think “dad” in the automatic sense it’s his face I see even though he is not my real father. He’s the only one I ever called dad. I have his name. Which is the one thing I appreciate. It has a much better sound then the one I was born with.

I think mom wanted me to be with Dusty now. Maybe because she will not but mostly because I think she wants us to be close as a brother and sister should. The truth is we are not. Mom divorced John when I was only ten which made Dusty four. In the first year, I still participated in the weekend switch but that all ended with the Bidwell incident and since that time I have seen Dusty maybe ten times total. That’s ten or so times in twenty-two years.

I spend alot of time contemplating family relationships and it seems a prevalent theme in my life. Though I have found no inspiration or resolution. Not having known my own father and as it seems I never will, I think about blood relationship versus all the other types of relationships. I have found more value in the families I have made for myself. Though what strikes me cold is that none have ever lasted. I guess the one thing I wish for is that I will have the one relationship I can depend on no matter what. My mom has and I’ve never given her enough credit for that. I mean she is always there. How much I can depend on might still be suspect. I can’t say she’s ever been involved in my life. But I’ll save those musing for another day.

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