"Don't tell me my father was wrong. Let me tell you something, a father who made you is wrong? A father, the breadwinner of the house there? The man who goes out and busts his butt to keep a roof over your head and clothes on your back you call him wrong? Father, that's the man that comes home, bringing you candy. Father is the first guy to throw a baseball to you. And take you for walks in the park holding you by the hand? My father held me by the hand, hey, my father had a hand on him though I tell you. He busted that hand once, and he busted the other on me to teach me to do good. My father, he shoved my in a closet for seven hours to teach me to do good, 'cause he loved me. Don't be looking at me. Let me tell you something, you're supposed to love your father 'cause your father loves you. How can any man who loves you tell you anything that's wrong?" - All In Family (1971)

Y'know, I've known my father for about five years now. He never came home bringing me candy or threw a baseball to me. And he never really took me for a walk, holding my hand. But he's my father, and I'm supposed to love him, not just because he loves me, but because he is my father, he made me, and things are now different.

Since we've met we eventually travel together for pleasant times. It's always good to be with him, even though sometimes, he irritates me with his authoritarism disguised as politeness. He probably doesn't even know that, but the truth is I do.

We spent last christmas together at Cabo Frio, in a nice apartment near the beach, with my two half-siblings and later on with his ex-wife too. We had some fun and I had promised him that after christmas I would spend some time with him at Brasilia, where he lives. But I didn't want to go, because I often get bored there locked up in that apartment with those two little annoying brats that I try to love, but I'm not sure if I do. Oh, I'm talking about his two children, by the way.

Christmas was very fun. We used to wake up and go to beach and drink until midday, then we would go back home and keep drinking and have some delicious lunches. Pleasant times, nothing that justify me failing my dad on the promise of spending some time in Brasilia with him. I truly believe the fact that most influenced on my decision was that he found out that I lied to him about an event that happened in a night club in Belo Horizonte, where I got in trouble with the club administration and the police, but that's not important now. I told him a story, and he found out I lied, and I probably got too ashamed to be with him for a longer time after him finding out that I lied.

So I stopped talking to my dad since Christmas, until he called me a couple of days ago telling me that he would be coming to Rio for work and he wanted to meet me. So I went to his hotel, we took a walk at the beach, had lunch at the hotel, then I took a walk alone, drank some beer and wasted some time and then got back home, until the next day, when I woke up earlier so we could go to the beach, spend some time together, have a little talk, then go eat at a cool restaurant. Bad thing is we weren't able to talk - apparently he was too hooked up by the newspaper. After that I went for another lonely walk at Ipanema beach for a beer and a brownie.

Well, nothing special right? Just normal things dads and sons do. Maybe, because I never had a strong masculine presence in my childhood, I've idealized that fathers tell their sons that the sky isn't just above you, that if you look at the horizon you'll see that it actually touches the ground. So if you think about it, wherever you go, you are actually walking in the sky.

But nah. My dad is just my dad, and I am just his son. No ceremonies here, no idealizations, just facts. Only the present is worth, so the fact that he wasn't present in my childhood isn't important now, nor the fact he still isn't present in my daily routine isn't important at all, for we have a bond stronger than friendship or love. And although we cannot be together, we will never, ever be apart.