Family bonds or not?

Friday May 3rd 2013.

I raced into work and got down to vacuuming and hand washing the van as suggested by my boss. Come the afternoon I was outside my home applying T-Cut to the bonnet in what I took to be a uniform circular manner but its since dried to a sporadic dull area here and there.
It's looking better since fixed anyhow and the roof is gonna be a struggle with it being so high off the ground and my human legs propelling my upper half less high. But at least seeing the end product will be harder also on top of the van.
Speaking of roofs being slightly dodgy....my hair line underwent my latest assessment this week as I held my hair back. I e mailed my father what I thought was a jokey message telling him how I had never had a prime as I got my first grey hair in my twenties and my hairline was retreating like an army of cowards. His response was two part... 'Is that an issue? You have a wonderful son and it could be worse, you could be me'. I didn't know where to go with that really. Such a short response held many questions of interpretations to me. Here's a guy who does message me most weeks after years of disappearing from his families lives. Then when I reply in an attempt at a possible conversation, I get no response until the next e mail as if that's a clean slate again. No doubt my father finds me difficult and in his head is trying his best but I also find him so easy to criticise. I've tried to do the right thing by agreeing to re establish contact with him, but he still never communicate with me on a loving father/son level. It feels contractually based. I'll simply never know the guy. Is he more fucked up and robotic than me? Are we repelling each other exactly the same? Am I the one who doesn't let him open up? The bizarre thing is my brothers would suggest that I have the most contact with him actually which seems weird. He never puts any of his soul into his exchanges. I do worry that he's in a dark turmoil the likes of which I experienced through my twenties and he doesn't have the ability to reach out. Actually I KNOW he and I (and maybe my brothers?) share the decision to run away from difficult situations and erase the memory of them sooner than fix them the hard way. He is a mystery to me and i to him.
I should say that I don't really know my own brothers inside and out. Barely even out if I'm honest. No one ever tells each other their inner feelings until something massively horrid happens. Because nothing horrid has happened yet, no one gives or opens up to each other.

On a less analytical note, I'm picking my son up from school now and in the morning we hope to go to the seaside together where I will tell him I love him half a dozen times and photograph our trip together. He is a challis of golden sunshine which is made from pure love. Some people live a blessed life because they as rich. I live a blessed life currently due to my relationship with my own son.
I dread him having proper friends when he's older.