Something has perplexed me my entire life is how many friends my father has. And how social and involved his friends are in his life despite him being such a generally unpleasant and anti-social person. He’s not without some charm, but my best guess is that he is just a totally different person with other people than he is with his family. I’ve certainly seen how that is true throughout my life. And I’ve always wondered if his friends know that. Or if they even care.
I’ve never had a lot of friends and have never had an easy time making new friends. It has long been a fascination of mine, this difference between us. Perhaps to an outward observer it doesn’t appear the same as it does to me. I don’t know.
And I don’t mean to imply that my father is some sort of miserable monster of a man. Although that does describe my father’s father pretty accurately, and again at his funeral there were far many more friends of his there than I could’ve ever imagined. My late brother also had the knack for always having a bunch of friends. They are the type of people that other people are just drawn to I guess.
I’ve never had a lot of friends and have never had an easy time making new friends. It has long been a fascination of mine, this difference between us. Perhaps to an outward observer it doesn’t appear the same as it does to me. I don’t know.
And I don’t mean to imply that my father is some sort of miserable monster of a man. Although that does describe my father’s father pretty accurately, and again at his funeral there were far many more friends of his there than I could’ve ever imagined. My late brother also had the knack for always having a bunch of friends. They are the type of people that other people are just drawn to I guess.
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