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Daddy's Girl

WoodworkingI recently had my parents in my home for the weekend.

There were grand-kids and cake involved.  It was pretty great.

I talked to my mom about family members and long-unseen friends.  We talked about canning vegetables and priceless recipes.

Then I talked to my dad.

We disagree on politics: I’m a liberal, he thinks I’m the devil

We disagree on religion: He’s a very strict Southern Baptist, I’m CLEARLY a heathen with my beliefs

We disagree on movies: He doesn’t like “Lord of the Rings”, I’m having him committed

So, yeah.

We agree to NOT agree on a lot of things.

But, this smell of sawdust and sweat is part of my childhood with memories of my dad giving me a block of wood to work on while he made something fascinating.

But, I remember long bike rides with my dad. taking in the moments of just being together.

But, I remember my dad sitting up with me at night when I was little (like 3), getting used to the time change from Korea to Indiana, snuggling into him and feeling safe where there was little that felt secure.

I may not always agree my father, but I’ll always be a Daddy’s Girl.


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