Losing my father was tough. I never could trust him. He was born with all the money in the world and proceeded to lose it all. What's worse is that he lost his family along with it and he could never come to terms that it was his fault. In the end he died homeless outside of a McDonalds in Dallas, where I was born; full circle. I talked to him every day before then, event though I knew he would never be there for us. I tired to help him so many times, but he could never help himself 😔 I considered not posting this. But maybe someone can relate.