You remind me of the complicated relationship I had with my own father, who passed away coming up on 3 years ago. I had the distinct pleasure and burden of caring for him at the end of his life when he was no longer able to care for himself.

My father was a kind and caring man, does it sounds like yours was. My father was also, early in my life, a conservative Baptist pastor. The things he believed and taught about gay people were very hard for me to process, even as he was accepting my bookishness, my lack of traditional masculinity, etc.

Eventually, he became entirely accepting, though I don't know how he processed it theologically. Several times in the weeks before he died, the two of us spoke fondly of the time that he traveled to New York City to spend a week or so with my gay partner and me. The trip was genuinely one of the high points of his life, which is something I didn't really understand until many years later.

The tension between his beliefs and his actions, the dissonance between religious dogma and love – I don't know if I'll ever understand how that works. But somehow, my dad managed.

I'm so glad you shared your story, and I really appreciated reading it.