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Thanks, Daddy

My father passed away years ago, but time hasn’t stopped thoughts of him from popping up whenever I need them. Today was no exception.

My father was somewhat quiet, but he loved to tease and point out the obvious. He once asked if the tight jeans I was wearing had been painted on. I was sixteen and I’m sure I responded with an eye roll (out of his sight, of course).

Even though my father never finished high school, that didn’t prevent him from teaching me and my siblings valuable life lessons.

You see, my dad wasn’t perfect, but he taught me that there’s beauty in imperfection. My father rarely said,“I love you” or “I’m proud of you”, but he showed it whenever he sat through my many orchestra concerts, track meets, or softball games.

I learned dignity in a job well done and the value of hard work from my father. I know he worked jobs that were dangerous, hard, or where he wasn’t appreciated, but he had a family to take care of and he never complained.

I learned from my father how important it is to maintain family connections. He rarely missed a grandchild’s birthday, and he LOVED when the house was filled with family during the holidays or other special occasions.

My father taught me so many more lessons, but ultimately all of that led to the final lesson, how to live without him.

Thanks, Daddy.


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