My Father's Son

This is what my father told me - I trust this “Last Will and Testament” in its simplest form will not lead to disputes and conflicts.  I also trust that both of you will continue to respect your step-mother who has always been proud of you both.

I haven’t revisited these feelings since my own mother passed away 17 years.  Those were dark times.  Rough times.  It happened similarly as 2Pac described:

As I bail through tha empty halls
breath stinkin’ 
in my jaws
ring, ring, ring
quiet y’all
incoming call
plus this my homie from high school
he’s getting bye
It’s time to bury another brotha nobody cry

Have I been the perfect son that I could have been?

Nope - I could’ve been that investment banker, making that £65K, living in the perfect home with a perfect family.  I could’ve been that high-rising management consultant, advising high-profile clients and living a great income in Arlington, VA.  I could have three kids, grand-children that my father could hold in his arms, aware of his legacy throughout time.

Instead, I’m playing the long-term game of success of entrepreneurship.  Am I at the point where I need to be - nope, no at all.

Which leads me to my next question - will my father survive long enough to see me succeed?  And I fear not.  And that is my failure.

I failed my mother.  I cannot fail my father.  He doesn’t deserve it - he gave me everything, and he lived through my mother’s death.  I am their first son - I am the bastion of the better life, the representative of things better.  The personalization of their ideals and dreams.  Their son.

But - I cannot control the fate of my father.  But I will always be his son.  And if God takes him away that only fuels my fire.

I won’t ever quit.  And when both my parents look down from Heaven, I’ll draw from my dying breath every ounce of effort that I can muster, for that is what I expect of myself of an honorable son.