its not good, but this counts!!!!

required words for the day. ( I know this isn't very good, I understand that. But, as I have already stated in the description for this blog: as long as I write something. the quality doesn't really matter, its all about habit. i just want to get into the habit of writing everyday so that i can get better. even if I just ramble on in some way or another, its okay.)

( no one is going to read this shit anyway. )

Dealing with my invalid father is always fun and cathartic.
Emptying a colostomy and catheter bag allows me to finally bond with the man who, for most of my life, was hardly even a presence. His recent need for constant care has given me the kind of father/son relationship that I missed as a child. Now, more than ever, I feel like I'm getting to know the old man.

I was raised by my mother, grandmother and aunt. The only male authority figure i had back then was an Uncle, but he was a complete asshole who had no idea how to relate to children.
My father was always sick, both physically and mentally. I realize now that I could have grown to be a completely different person, had it not been for my fathers health. This used to bother me. But now I'm thankful.
One of the many things that would be different, had he been around more when i was age 5-14, would be sports.
At age 32 i can honestly say that i couldn't give a fuck about sports. I don't care which because my hatred for sports is all encompassing.
My father and I would have probably tossed the football around in the backyard. He would have taken me to baseball games, basketball games and other sporting events. My fondness for art, movies, books and pop culture would have been replaced with an enthusiasm for watching large, sweaty men chase each other around a field or court holding balls of various shapes and sizes. Or worst case scenario, I would be down on that field or court with those very same men and their balls.
Now, I realize there may be more to my whole sports loathing than just my dad not spending time with me. Maybe people develop a love for competitive athletic showdowns without the aid of a father figure, I really don't know. But, my girlfriend's father used to spend time with her by going to watch CLEMSON play, and she used to sit in the stands while he played softball at the local civic center. Now, at age 30, she watches college football and Major League Baseball in an almost religious way. So I am going to stick with my theory, for now.
So, thanks Dad. Because of your inability to be a proper parent I don't feel the need to watch men play with their balls.

As the smell of fecal matter and my wasted youth float by my nostrils, I understand that this is where i am needed.
Regardless of my grand aspirations and dreams, I have to be here for the sake of my father. At least, as I said before, I'm getting to know the old bastard.