Over the past few months, I've had some time to think about my family. Some actions that I've recently taken have reminded me how close that I really am to the way my dad always seemed to me growing up. While I mostly lived on the weekend at his house with the weekdays being at my mom's, I certainly did learn quite a bit from him. He taught me to be kind and the consider others' needs before mine. He taught me to do a good job and always put my best foot forward at work. He taught me to always take care of family first and always remember where you came from.
He was actually kind enough to allow me to stay with him when I was a smart-mouthed 18 year old. Clearly I knew everything and didn't mind telling him how awesome I was. Yes, he even allowed me to continue to breathe afterward. Even when I left on terrible terms and acted like a complete jerk to him, he still cared enough to love me through it. He even waited patiently for me to come around and apologize. No, he didn't do anything wrong and he said he never held a grudge the entire time. He felt disappointed in the way I acted and he had every reason to.
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