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52 Stories in 52 Weeks #21—Dad and Me

As the firstborn in my family, I am Daddy’s Girl. Over the years I have worked hard to earn his approval, and he generously supports me in whatever I do. He is so approachable that I never hesitate to ask for his help or confide in him. He has an endearing gentleness that I recognized at an early age. Whenever I stubbed a toe or skinned a knee, I wanted him to treat it.

He and I are alike in some of our physical traits and temperament. I inherited my long legs from him. He put his to good use in sports, but I am not that coordinated. My height simply enables me to reach things in high places.

I also inherited The Temper from him and his paternal grandmother before him. Neither of us has much patience, nor did she. One time she cut down all the trees in her yard out of exasperation with the noisy birds living there. Now that is a short temper, and Dad and I both have it, too.

Dad and I have many interests in common, and we get along well. Over the years we have had long conversations about genealogy, history, finance, and politics. Dad worked as a petroleum landman for a major oil company, and I followed him into that profession. We both liked contracts and land title work.

Dad fostered my life-long interest in reading. He was the parent who read to us when we were young. When I had behavior problems in the second grade, he cured me by introducing me to the public library. He explained that if I just kept a novel in my desk, I could take it out to read instead of disturbing my classmates. It worked.

Dad and I differ in one big way. He has always loved team sports. At school he participated in every season—football in the fall, basketball in the winter, and track in the spring. He set a school record for running the mile, and he played college football. As an adult, he joined bowling and volleyball leagues. I have no such talent, nor do I have much interest in sports. I have rarely joined him to watch a ball game on TV. I prefer outdoor recreation like camping, hiking or bicycling, but Dad did not join me in those activities.

Through the years, my Dad has set a good example for me in all that he did. He nurtured my early interests, took me to church, and taught me valuable life skills. I often wonder how he became such a good dad when he lost his own at the young age of seven. Perhaps he just had a talent for it, and I am the lucky recipient.

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