liath

So, I just spent about two and a half weeks at my mom's house. Needless to say, it was frustrating, infuriating, and otherwise mostly unpleasant. However, I did have a good talk with my mom. For a long time, probably since the mid-nineties, I've wanted to change my name from my father's name to my mother's maiden name. I don't think she took my reasons seriously until this talk. All my life, I thought I was alone in my feelings for (or against) my father. A few years ago, my younger brother, my mom, and I all talked about some things. Turns out, we all felt the same way about him. Another check in the wasted childhood column. This last trip though, I explained why I want to change my name. I don't talk about this often, but I have some serious rage issues. Not anger, rage. I've done well enough to keep it under control. It's really only slipped a couple times, the most notable being the time I nearly beat a man to death for repeatedly attempting to rape his own daughter. If I'm going to harbor this evil inside myself, at least I can direct it in a deserving direction. Anyway, I know my rage issues come from my father. They're one of the only things I inherited from him. All the good things in me came from my mother, mostly by her father. He was my only real father figure. Everything I know about being a man, a good man, came from my short time with my grandfather. When I explained all of that to her, my mother supported my decision. I know I don't need her approval, but it's good to keep things civil.