He was an alcoholic truck driver that passed away last year. He apparently loved me very much, but his addiction to alcohol made him unpleasant more than pleasant.
He went to the hospital a year ago because he got a disease called MAC, which was so rare, most of the doctors were unfamiliar with it. They put him in a coma for just under a week, and weren't sure if he would survive.
My mother had to force me to go visit him. When he was in the coma I told him I forgave him, still loved him, and if he wanted to get better, tell me he did love me and he was sorry for not showing it to me, and then die, that might be best.
He came out of the coma and I visited him a couple times. He apparently became very sweet afterwards, and said he really planned to quit smoking and drinking after that.
He called me a couple times and tried to talk to me, but I was busy with an upcoming opera, and I was afraid to allow him to get close to me, lest he hurt me again. He promised he'd come to my opera to see me perform. Turned out to be one of my favorite theatrical shows i've ever been in. He missed it. I don't know why.
He died of a heart attack two weeks after he got out of the hospital for a basically unrelated disease. He was in his trailer and nobody knew he was dead for 3 days.
The last time I talked to him I rushed him off the phone because I had to get on the metro and, really, I just didn't want to talk to him about the opera just for him to stand me up like he so often did.
After he died I gave his mom the little amount of money he had left and took his truck to remember him. About two months later I hydroplaned and immediately slammed into a concrete barrier on the highway, pretty much totaling the truck.
I miss him. I don't think about the drunk times, usually. Mostly I think about how he always called me Bubba and took me to the ponds to feed the ducks. I should probably go see his gravestone someday. But for right now, I'm trying to pretend I don't want to. It would just hurt to remind myself I'll never really get to know the father behind the alcohol. Sorry about the tangent. Today's rough.
R.I.P. Greg.