...There’s a lot that we don’t know about our parents, and sometimes the not-knowing is more comfortable. It allows us to see the best in them.
...I wanted to believe my dad would tell me the truth after a lifetime of deception and distance. Instead, I had to face the reality that he probably never would.
...Despite knowing that I knew what really happened, he couldn’t give up the fantasies he had created. He needed the lies. It made me feel sorry for him, so I just let him talk. We all go through childhood wondering who our parents are when they’re not Mom or Dad. That’s why some of us eavesdrop, sneak into closets and rummage through dresser drawers in secret. As adults, we have to decide how much to dig and how much to let lie.
Months later, as I was finishing this story, I told my dad that I didn’t believe him. I laid out what he had told me, and how it differed from what my reporting showed. I told him I thought he was lying. I asked what he thought about that, and he shrugged.
“People believe what they believe,” he said. “You believe one thing, I believe something else.”
Mr. Fontana served 44 months in prison for his part in a group of people who impersonated police officers and stole money from drug dealers in Chicago. Read more here.
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