I used to hate my father. I had good reasons. I felt unloved by him. But over time, after much thought and introspection (and therapy) I've reached a point where I can honestly say I believe he did the best parenting job he could. No one is perfect, and he was burdened with his own issues, just as I have been. The things I used to be so angry about just don't seem to matter much anymore. I forgive my father for the times when he was not the best parent he could have been. I wish he was still alive so I could ask him to forgive me for not being the best son I could have been. I think what I'm feeling is love for my father. Letting go of baggage is a wonderful thing. Happy Father's Day, dad.