I suppose like many sons might. You try to get along as adults, because as a kid you were powerless and weak. You pine endlessly for that warm fuzzy, violins playing, reconsiliation for all wounds ever made. And you recognize finally that frailties belong to everyone, and that some of those everyone's frailties happen to hurt others.
And aside from that, you grow a ponytail, figure out you're gay, go all leftie on his ass (okay, in all honesty - that has more to do with past and continuing experiences with the "bootstraps" males - and some women, too - who wear their "self-reliance" as a badge and poke anybody in the eye with the pin-end of it whom THEY see as "not measuring up":
"Whattaya mean, broken leg?? Walk it off!!! Concussion, consmussion! Get back out there and nail the guy who hit'cha"...et cetera.
My dad was one of those. For a long while, I attributed it to his coupl'a decades in the Navy, and his old-hat views on gender and "bums" and "broken people" (you know, "loonies", the 'r' word, even "shell shocked" and long-haired). Fix your own problems and don't ask, expect, or lobby/vote/whine for handouts.