To this day, one of my favorite smells is the mix of motor oil and orange scented cleaner. My dad is a mechanic and the cleaner was what he used (uses?) on his hands.
Whenever we went camping, my dad always brought his guitar. That is one of the reasons I play too.
One of the only memories I have of childhood is after I learned to ride a bike. One day I dragged my dad all over town on our bikes. We stopped for Creamies and squeaky cheese at this little dairy store that is no longer there.
I always loved my orchestra concerts. I think more than the playing and being on stage, I loved knowing that if my dad had made it to the concert, I was going to be able to get ice cream with him at the nearby Artic Circle.
My dad taught me how to camp, how to love old country music, how to make cookies...my dad makes a mean cookie!
Thinking of his smile and laughter Always makes me miss him. And then I cry.
He taught me it's okay to cry, even if you're a tough old mechanic.
By example, he taught me that you do what needs to be done. It doesn't matter how busy you are, how inconvenient it may be. Buck up and get it done.
He taught me how to fish. Which I love. Even if I just throw the poor suckers back where they came from, traumatized and worse for the wear.
One pair of glasses. Two knee surgeries. Three broken arms. Four pre-mission exams. Five wisdom teeth.
I love my dad. And I get him forever. I am one lucky girl. His favorite too (don't tell my sisters).
I'm lucky. I have a one-of-a-kind dad, a loving step-dad, and an uncle who has always loved me as his own. How many girls get to say they have three dads??
Make that four. And I thank Him often for the other three.
Whenever we went camping, my dad always brought his guitar. That is one of the reasons I play too.
One of the only memories I have of childhood is after I learned to ride a bike. One day I dragged my dad all over town on our bikes. We stopped for Creamies and squeaky cheese at this little dairy store that is no longer there.
I always loved my orchestra concerts. I think more than the playing and being on stage, I loved knowing that if my dad had made it to the concert, I was going to be able to get ice cream with him at the nearby Artic Circle.
My dad taught me how to camp, how to love old country music, how to make cookies...my dad makes a mean cookie!
Thinking of his smile and laughter Always makes me miss him. And then I cry.
He taught me it's okay to cry, even if you're a tough old mechanic.
By example, he taught me that you do what needs to be done. It doesn't matter how busy you are, how inconvenient it may be. Buck up and get it done.
He taught me how to fish. Which I love. Even if I just throw the poor suckers back where they came from, traumatized and worse for the wear.
One pair of glasses. Two knee surgeries. Three broken arms. Four pre-mission exams. Five wisdom teeth.
I love my dad. And I get him forever. I am one lucky girl. His favorite too (don't tell my sisters).
I'm lucky. I have a one-of-a-kind dad, a loving step-dad, and an uncle who has always loved me as his own. How many girls get to say they have three dads??
Make that four. And I thank Him often for the other three.
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