Perfectionism is not all it's cracked up to be.

My Father had his share of it. Dad would get very angry as a result. When his anger was expressed toward me, often for some minor infraction, I interpreted it as criticism of me and his lack of love for me,with sad results.

I am coming to understand that he did love me very much in spite of his anger.

I forgive him and love him very much.

I hadn't seen my dad for over 15 years. In 2005 we had a reunion at Brad's place in Riodosa. Dad greeted me outside the cabin. He had on a cheerful yellow jacket. We hugged for a few seconds and when I began to let go , he hugged me again and held me tight for a long time.:)

Later that night, Dad told stories about our family by the pot bellied stove. stories about him as a child at Granny Roses kitchen Stories about Granpa Wesstrom walking from BayRidge Brooklyn all the way to Flushing ,Queens to court His sweetheart Mildred Jonas. These stories were loving gifts from my Father.

The last time I saw my Father, was in 2011. Dad greeted me at the airport at Love Field,Texas. In his fun loving way when we saw each other from afar he did a happy dance and I laughed then got a big hug.

Later at my brother Steve's house we spent time alone sketching with some art supplies he brought me and talking.in the sunlight at the kitchen table.

After a day we said good bye, he went on to spend time with Carol and Brad.

Thereafter we continued to have long conversations on the phone, and write each other.

My earliest memory of my Dad is him holding me in his arms as he carried me down the wooden stairs of my grandparents home, half asleep. I still remember the sound of his shoes, as they hit the wooden steps, such a warm, steady sound.

I was a small four year old, who had fallen asleep upstairs in Granma's bed.

It was time to go home to my Mother.

Karenski