Hello dear reader(s)!
Time to pile on to the plethora of paternal posts.
That’s right, this one is about my dad, aka, my father.
At 7 am sharp (before the wind started) my dad arrived at my house this morning to finish killing the weeds that had grown in the backyard. On Father’s Day.
This is my dad. This has always been my dad.
My dad and I do not agree on everything, but I respect and admire him for at least thinking about things before he makes up his mind. In the political realm, we actually have a few things in common, but him and I weigh our priorities differently, so he usually ends up on the opposite side. Sometimes I wonder how he has arrived at the views he has, given the history of his life, but it is what it is. I’ve been careful to try to stick to topics where we have some common ground if we ever talk politics.
My dad is one of the most hard working people I know. He has a hard time resting and relaxing, Even worse than I do. He knows what I can’t do and is always eager to help.
He set this house up for me, did rather expensive and labor intensive repairs to it, and came up to move us down all so that we could attempt to begin to move forward as adults from my cancer. Without him, I am absolutely certain that I would not be in as good of a place as I even am now (which means I would be in awful place) in my head. Thanks to him, we have a chance to slowly rebuild our lives after being torn apart by my illness.
We haven’t always seen eye to eye on everything, and we never will, but my dad has a really good heart and is a very good guy.
My mom is also a really great woman who helped us survive to even get to this point. Since I didn’t dedicate a Mother’;s Day post to her, she gets in on this shit too. My parents, while definitely not perfect in many ways (who is?) I think are really good people and have done a pretty good job because they made me and I am awesome!
I just feel bad that they hadn’t quite worked out the bugs when making my older sister and brother. (Just kidding, love you!)