I’ll start by just saying, all things considered—I had a good dad. He was a provider, worked hard, sacrificed a lot for our family and wanted the best for us. He was absent at certain periods, not sure if it was depressive episodes or if he just truly didn’t know how to contribute meaningfully to our lives.
I’ll do better than my dad at telling my kids I love them and I’m proud of them.
It took me 21 years (24 now) before I ever told my dad I felt like I still was trying to earn his love/pride. Way too long to know how he really felt.