I received a text from my dad today informing me that said biograndf died last week at the ripe age of 84. Last week he said. And I get a text. How apropo. It was a strange feeling that came over me when I read the 3 lines of text while at my desk at work. I released a long sigh and reread the text a few times. To read that this person, who's mere relation to me had loomed in my darkest of shadows since the 5th grade when I discovered who and what he really was, was gone from this earth and in a way my existence was a relief somehow. The lifting of a weight that I didn't know was there was palpable. I suddenly felt like the threat of his relation to me was somehow less threatening now, less real. And four months before I bring his bio great granddaughter into the world, I breathe a sigh of relief that she will not know a world with him in it. She may only one day discover the path of destruction and legacy that he left behind.
Rereading what I just wrote, I worry that my thoughts put into words will be harshly received by some members of my family as some of them had set out to make amends with that man over the past few years. Opportunities for a re connection were also presented to me but I kindly declined - repeatedly. There was no place in my life for him as a child and I could find no place for him in my life as an adult. It was a sentiment not shared by his own adult children who sought a re connection with their father.
Decades after his conviction and release, and now death, the dirty details are still out there, floating around in People Magazine archives, New York Times articles, random blogs and legal briefs, all keeping him alive. And those still don't offer the full story, but they offer enough. As I close this post, I imagine that I have finished The Book too.