My dad is not a nice person. He repeatedly cheated on his family for several years, lied, brainwashed us all into thinking that his late nights were normal, and even now doesn’t understand why some of his kids don’t want to talk to him.

He’s a narcassistic sociopath.

But it’s not all he is. He took us on mountain excursions, taught us to take risks and developed our sense of adventure and independence. When we needed a ride home after a night of drinking with friends, he’d be there in a flash to pick us up. He exhudes a charm that makes him a fantastic storyteller and I can’t shake off the fond memories I have of him, despite all he has done.