My parents were separated since before I started forming long-term memories and I was raised by my single mother. We used to visit my dad’s side of the family for a week or so every other Christmas, I lived with him for a couple months as a teenager when my home life got particularly rough due to a profoundly toxic non-parent influence, and during stay that we ignored each other apart from the cliche “divorced parent and kid who don’t actually know each other at all trying to act their respective parts but neither knows how or really wants to or frankly likes the other one but they both know it’s polite to pretend” sorts of interactions (which were quite sparing even as those go). Neither of us has ever attempted to keep in touch with the other over the phone or in writing.
To be clear, I don’t hold any of that against him even a little bit; that’s all perfectly normal on his end as far as I’m concerned. That’s all just there for context when I tell you that, now that I’m well into my 30s, I recently heard from my older sister who actually tries to stay connected to him that he’s begun boasting about how proud he is for having shaped me into the man I am today. And, like, I’m not even on social media so I’m not a person he’s even capable of keeping tabs on from a distance if he tried. He fully has no idea who I am. He not only doesn’t deserve to take credit, he doesn’t even know what he’s taking credit for. I’m just so automatically an extension of himself by virtue of my DNA that he goes around telling other people that he’s proud of me.
(A more technically accurate but less entertaining answer to the question is that he’s politically a Libertarian.)