Last days

My father is in his last days, though he has held on for quite some time with recurring illness about 10 years now. My relationship has been complicated with him. I have spent years being angry, angry about my youth, and the way he bullied us all. There is such a complexity to it though, as I firmly believe he was a man of his time, with many unfulfilled hopes, financial pressures, and a lack of educational intelligence. He never physically harmed me, though I was too weak to take his own anger, and it has marked me to this day. I know it is at the root of all my problems, all the things I feel I've lost out on, the confidence I don't have, my low self esteem, my problems with addiction. I have dreams now where I wake up in a sweat. I dreamt a few days ago that he was dead and I woke to expect the news would come that day. It didn't, and we all wait. A kind of purgatory of its own. At least I think I'm at peace with him now; he not being fit enough for years to shout or insult. I know I'm right to think he did wrong, because he did. But it makes things no easier to be alone with those thoughts, not being able to express them fully to anyone