Letting go and Remembering the good

I was talking to a good friend a couple of day's ago.She told me how much she has enjoyed reading my blog. I thanked her and we discussed that my writing was a way of dealing with my father's death. It has bothered me alot more than I expected, my father was never a real big part of my life . My father was an abusive alcohlic.
After he and my mother divorced , I was 12. I never seen or heard from him much.
maybe once every 2 years or so no birthday, christmas not a graduation even my wedding he was alway's a no show. He came back into my life when I was 30 years old.
When Uncle Ken and I went got him in Kentucky he was homeless. He moved with Uncle Ken and pulled himself together has best he could. I watched him stay sober for 6 months to a year but would alway's go back to drinking and ocassionly fight with me or Uncle Ken. Uncle Ken and I have talked alot about and could never figure him out all we ever came up with was that he just thought different than normal people. He got mad at me one time because I would not stop and see everytime I was down in Bainbridge, but if knew he was drinking as I did not want my young son to be exposed to him in that condition as he could be very tempermental.Kenny Ray was 6 years old when I asked dad to move into the cabin. I was very concerned he was just diagnosed
with C.O.P.D. smokers diasease. The trailer he was living in after moving out of Uncle Kens was not a healthy enviroment.Those last few years were fairly good he would still drink ocassionaly but only one or two times did he go on binges, but some of those could last 3 or 4 weeks until he ran out of money. As I look back now he and I fought the last year of his life on several ocassions including Thanksgiving
and Christmas as he was mad and did come up to my house for dinner either Holiday, I regrett it terribly. About a month before He died I was at the cabin and he and was sitting on the couch together talking and he looked at me and said son I am sorry.
I asked for what , and he just said I am sorry and nothing else was said. The night he died at the hospital My sister's ,Kenny Ray and I were in the emergency room with him. It was the only time I ever thought of him as being weak and frail. I was sitting in the corner just watching them attend to him , he just kept asking to be left alone , I finally got up and went over to him and told them all to leave him alone he just wants to be left alone. I placed my and under his head the other I was trying to clean the blood as best I could. Kenny ray and my sister gathered around his bed. I asked do do you want me to remove my hand from the back of your head? He looked up at me and said no.He looked backed at my sister's and said It's time for this old man to go, I love you all , He then looked at my sisiter Lisa and said I love God to, He turned back his and said God please help me. He never sad another word as the morphine started to kick in.
Sometimes I think back even the last few years of his life Dad and I never got very close to one another because we both remembered the bad times when maybe he was embaraased and ashamed at what had happened and maybe deep down I was mad and disaapointed. I told my mom after he died that I could not come up with many good memories of dad when I was a kid and she told me there was if I would let go of the bad ones I would remember the good ones.
I wished I could of had a relationship with Dad like Kenny Ray and I have. or even just one more day of sitting on the porch and joking, laughing and making a good memory.