I place the diplomas behind me & think "now I have all the degrees to just wipe my father away", a powerful, yet arrogant feeling. I relax & realize "my dad actually financed all these degrees, also the ones that he was unhappy about. I choose - a grovelled verbally - I grovelled back - and, in the end he financed it". Mmmm... humorous on a certain level, & also a humble realization of the difference between 'fact' and 'emotion'. The 'fact' is that my dad paid a lot for all my intellectual explorations, and that today - 20 years later - I can understand his concern with 'results'. It also makes me question to interpretation of myself, "my story", of being "right" whereas he, or someone else, is "wrong".
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