This is a conversation that had with my Dad 1989. He had not been in my life since 1976. I got out of the service and my marriage was failing and I came out to the closet as gay. I had lost several key people in my life already because of “how I grew two heads.” Someone told my dad (I found later was my older brother) about this and he came from Washington to talk. He stayed with me and over the course of three days he preached to me about how I would not go to heaven. Quoting scripture about how I can change and how it’s wrong. I would try to interject other sins into this conversation to deaf ears. I was miserable with facing all this. How I felt these people must know something, it was all new to me. Not the feeling, I have had it ever since I was 5-6 years old, but never spoke it aloud. I endured this after work for two days and on day three when he wanted to talk about how important family was and how I was a disappointment. I could not take any more. I laughed about his idea of the family how he left when I was 14 years old, and his reason was he had cancer and had to change his life. How he already had another family and he did not need to be a concern with me or my life and asked him to leave my home. He then got offended and said he was not going to go to my brother’s places I told him I did not care where he went but he was leaving this place. I stayed in a dark place for several months later, even contemplating suicide, never acting. Slowly I started surrounding my self with people, not blood family. I leaned Family was not necessary blood but who we chose in our life. My dad reached out from time to time, but I was Gay, I was in the medical profession (which he did not agree with due to his Cult religion “The Faith”) and I was doing great without him. Most of the time he needed something from me sometimes I would but most of the time I would not. He called me a week before he died and wanted me to give him money to make a truck payment. He said he had been sick and think it was pneumonia and he was going to die. I asked if he had been to a doctor and he said, “you know how I feel about health care professionals!” I offered to fly to Washington and take him to ER and he declined he said he only need the money to make his truck note before he died. I told him if he were dead, he would not need the truck and hung up. My brother called me two days later and told me he died and asked if I wanted to fly with him to bury him. I declined. I was at peace with it.