My Dad is a very special man. Although my Mom is the one I go to for most advice, my Mom has always said that my Dad's gift is discernment. I completely believe that God made males and females different and most men think about things with less emotion. While my Mom has the gift of loyalty--my Dad looks at things more objectively and with less emotion. 'Cause guys can do that.
My Dad is the one who convinced me to major in what I was passionate about while I was in college. In addition, I owe all my political leanings to my father. And with great appreciation, no less. Although he and I tend to agree on nearly all issues, he that taught me to think for myself. He also taught me the value of trickle down economics and compound interest.
My Dad is a really handy guy. He can fix or remodel absolutely anything. When I lived at home, he always maintained my cars--checking my oil, checking my tire pressure and fluid levels--and he still continued to do so even after I moved out. He's replaced the brakes on my cars, made sure my wheels were in alignment and replaced my tires when I didn't have the money to do so.
He owns a duplex that he let me live in while finishing college--for half the market value of the rent and he let me paint and make the place my own. He didn't let other other tenants do that. He even built my first kitchen table--made to order, just how I wanted it.
When DH and I bought our first house, we made sure to get his input (and my mom's too) about the kind of house we should purchase. He was there for the first showing of the house we ended up buying, as his opinion is always trusted.
During the time that DH and I were struggling about what to do with his job situation, I knew I could always turn to my Dad for advice. And even though he looked for every opportunity for us not to move, calling each day with some new job opening he suggested DH pursue, in the end he reassured me that DH and I had made the right choice. The night we moved here, my Dad assured me, while fighting back tears, that it was evident that God's hand was in our choices, as everything had fallen into place.
When we had problems with our former renters and had to find new renters, and with DH and I hundreds of miles away from our house, my Dad took care of nearly everything. He made repairs, painted walls, and hauled off garbage. He showed the house to prospective new renters at a moments notice and spent too many hours to count getting our house rent ready. He and my mom also cleaned the house from top to bottom. Simply put--we wouldn't have been able to pull it off without him.
He has also become a wonderful Grandfather. The Peanuts absolutely ADORES her Grandpa, or "Pop" as she affectionately calls him. It's a mutual admiration between the two. They are like Peanut Butter & Jelly, Salt & Pepper, the Skipper and his Little Buddy. They were meant for each other. When I was little I called my Grandpa "Papa" and it's no coincidence that Peanut's name for her Grandpa is "Pop." It is so sweet.
(Yes, this picture was cropped--how sad that the most recent picture I have of the two of us together is from nearly two years ago. If you can't tell {ha, ha} I am pregnant with the Peanut)
Thank you Dad, for who you are and for what you have taught me to be. Thank you for loving me, even when I was unlovable.
What a blessing my Dad is.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
My Dad is the one who convinced me to major in what I was passionate about while I was in college. In addition, I owe all my political leanings to my father. And with great appreciation, no less. Although he and I tend to agree on nearly all issues, he that taught me to think for myself. He also taught me the value of trickle down economics and compound interest.
My Dad is a really handy guy. He can fix or remodel absolutely anything. When I lived at home, he always maintained my cars--checking my oil, checking my tire pressure and fluid levels--and he still continued to do so even after I moved out. He's replaced the brakes on my cars, made sure my wheels were in alignment and replaced my tires when I didn't have the money to do so.
He owns a duplex that he let me live in while finishing college--for half the market value of the rent and he let me paint and make the place my own. He didn't let other other tenants do that. He even built my first kitchen table--made to order, just how I wanted it.
When DH and I bought our first house, we made sure to get his input (and my mom's too) about the kind of house we should purchase. He was there for the first showing of the house we ended up buying, as his opinion is always trusted.
DH and I had a huge list of things that we wanted to improve in our new home. While DH was willing to learn and tackle these new projects, he didn't always know where to start. My Dad was there each step of the way, showing DH how to install new doors, crown molding, granite tile, laminate flooring, run speaker wires, hang cabinets...the list goes on and on.
During the time that DH and I were struggling about what to do with his job situation, I knew I could always turn to my Dad for advice. And even though he looked for every opportunity for us not to move, calling each day with some new job opening he suggested DH pursue, in the end he reassured me that DH and I had made the right choice. The night we moved here, my Dad assured me, while fighting back tears, that it was evident that God's hand was in our choices, as everything had fallen into place.
When we had problems with our former renters and had to find new renters, and with DH and I hundreds of miles away from our house, my Dad took care of nearly everything. He made repairs, painted walls, and hauled off garbage. He showed the house to prospective new renters at a moments notice and spent too many hours to count getting our house rent ready. He and my mom also cleaned the house from top to bottom. Simply put--we wouldn't have been able to pull it off without him.
He has also become a wonderful Grandfather. The Peanuts absolutely ADORES her Grandpa, or "Pop" as she affectionately calls him. It's a mutual admiration between the two. They are like Peanut Butter & Jelly, Salt & Pepper, the Skipper and his Little Buddy. They were meant for each other. When I was little I called my Grandpa "Papa" and it's no coincidence that Peanut's name for her Grandpa is "Pop." It is so sweet.
(Yes, this picture was cropped--how sad that the most recent picture I have of the two of us together is from nearly two years ago. If you can't tell {ha, ha} I am pregnant with the Peanut)
Thank you Dad, for who you are and for what you have taught me to be. Thank you for loving me, even when I was unlovable.
What a blessing my Dad is.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
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