thehefner | (no subject)

Against my better judgement, I told my father the Hefner Monologue about My Grandfather's Last Words. I didn't think he'd find any humor in it. I thought he was shake his head, smile humorlessly, and remark on how nasty and sad and pathetic the whole situation was.

Instead, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed harder and longer than I'd ever seen him laugh before. He laughed joyously, as if it was the first truly wonderful thing to happen to him in years. There were tears coming to his eyes, and I realized, watching this, that there were tears coming to mine too.

I cannot yet put into words the weight, the importance of what happened. Maybe some of who who have known about his history can understand what I mean, but I'm not sure of even that. All I know is that in that moment, my father and I shared one of the most beautiful, tender moments of our lives together. I am fairly certain nothing like that will ever happen again, nor shall I ever forget it.

I think when I do The Hefner Monologues, I'll tell My Grandfather's Last Words in the context of this day. After I write the essays about him, in the hopes of conveying finally what it really is like to live with this man.

I still don't know what to think. I just know I am moved beyond what words can say. For now.