My dad is 83 years old and has a gargantuan capacity for empathy. He is a sensitive soul who isn’t afraid to divulge his emotions or show them openly.
I’ve seen him cry unapologetically. He’s got an enormous heart and a deep-rooted soul. I don’t call my dad “father” because he is more than a father; he is my friend.
While I’ve been living with bipolar disorder since 2008 when I was 28, he was just diagnosed in 2015 at 77. Like father, like son.