It Is On.

Considering how nervous I was last night, I slept amazingly well. This morning at 6:45 my assistant came, as usual, to pick me up and take me to a local sports pub that I like to go to (they open early)— to work, chat, and think most mornings. There are also some characters and friends who come in early, whose company I enjoy. Plus, they have 22 TVs so I can watch a little bit of everything as the day begins.

I’ve written about my 20-ish year estrangement from my father. Well, after reconciling after my mother died, today was the day that he was to arrive to visit me. And I was nervous. As I sat in the pub — thinking, talking, working — I had a typical panic attack. I’m prone to them. But this one was big. Dad and I had had some very warm conversations and text exchanges so I had no doubt that it would go well. Yet we hadn’t been face-to-face in so long, and I have been in such a strange emotional state over the loss of my mother, I found myself in a weird bit of confusion.

I found myself dabbing my eyes more and more as the time for his arrival here in Norfolk grew closer. I got so emotional that I asked my assistant to greet him at baggage claim whilst I waited in the car, for fear of a public meltdown.

And then…there he was. My Man. Dad. We went out for lunch and drinks, and though we are both a little older, it’s like we are the best of friends. Just like that.

I feel so incredibly fortunate. I’ve no idea why it has taken so long, but here we are, hanging at the beach together, and I’ll take it.

So I’m taking him around and introducing him to friends. And we’re partying. And it’s only been one day. I love him, and I want to show him off, I suppose.

He started out as a cop. San Bernardino (California) Police Department. He went on to go to Cal State San Bernardino, at the same time the young me was studying political science there to get his PhD (we never saw each other) and he went on to become a professor of criminal justice for decades. And I am so proud of him. One of the things we are going to do while he is here is co-pen an opinion piece about criminal justice reform. He from the center-left, me from the center-right. Strange bedfellows…

3 Generations of Rad.

I write this as a bit of a love letter, as I tend to do, this time to my Dad. It’s amazing to be with him, and I am grateful to The Universe for bringing us together again. He’ll be here for a few more days and I am sure it will be an adventure. I am crying a lot, quietly. But there is really nothing like tears of joy. I’ll take em.

So, again. Reconciliation — particularly in this day and age — is critical. With great karmic value as a bonus. I know that in some cases it might be impossible, but if you are in a tiff with someone you love over something petty, get over it. And be beautiful. We are not getting any younger.

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Veteran media / comms advisor & political strategist, producer, non-profit management pro, writer for a variety of publications. Beach dweller. Handful.

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CHRISTIAN JOSI

CHRISTIAN JOSI

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Veteran media / comms advisor & political strategist, producer, non-profit management pro, writer for a variety of publications. Beach dweller. Handful.