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I spent my father’s final day on Earth with him.

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I’ll be changing my last name. I’ll be distancing myself. I will be wisely choosing the things I tell them and the affection I show them, which is little to none now anyway.

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I had dreamt of meeting him for as long as I could remember. I had all these fantasies about us being buddies. And once he met me, then surely he’d want to be buddies too. Of course, why wouldn’t he?

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He knows Dad and I don’t speak or don’t speak often. We speak when we have to, at family functions or funerals or weddings, but my little brother doesn’t know why. I wish I could say I didn’t know anymore, but I do. I don’t think my father knows anymore, and that’s the problem.

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Commitment to family isn’t demonstrated by blindly opening your emotions, health, and time to individuals whose commitment to you was genetically determined. The beauty of family is when people make a choice to honor each other’s physical and emotional health.