I love that my dad works hard and loves his job. I've never once heard him complain about working long hours. He's a doctor and often has to work 12 or 24 hour shifts, then he comes home, sleeps the whole day, and goes back and does it again. He never complained when we lived an hour away from the hospital and he had to commute every day. It must have been exhausting to make the drive after working such long hours. He likes what he does and he's good at it. I remember the first day I realized that my dad is a really good doctor.
My mom and I were watching "Mystery Diagnosis", that show where people have some weird medical condition and no one can figure out what's wrong. My dad walked through the door halfway through the show, so my mom and I caught him up on what was going on. We explained the patient's symptoms and the results of the doctor's tests. At this point in the show the patient had seen 3 different doctors plus a specialist and no one could figure out what was going on. My dad told us what he thought it was- some kind of rare genetic disease found in only 0.1% of the population (I can't even remember what it was called). At the end of the show, we discovered he was right!I love that my dad made our education a priority. He saved up money so he could pay for all three of us kids to go to college. I'm so grateful that I didn't have to take out any loans to pay for school. Which leads me to something else I'm thankful for- my dad is wise with money and knows how to save. I've seen other dads waste their money on big TVs, sports cars, electronic gadgets, even gaming systems. My dad has never wanted stuff like that. He puts a lot of his money in savings, so when the time comes to buy a new car, or get repairs done on the house, or pay for our education, he has enough. I think the only time he's taken out loans was to buy a house! I'm glad I've learned from my dad how to spend money wisely- on things that are important.
I love that my dad is strong. Leslie and I would each swing from his arms when we were little and sometimes he carried one of us on each shoulder. Sometimes I would fall asleep in the car on the way home from somewhere, and he'd carry me upstairs to my bed. Sometimes I'd pretend to fall asleep because I wanted my dad to carry me up. I always thought my dad was strong enough to lift anything and tough enough to do anything. I was also convinced he couldn't feel pain. And in fact, my dad never complains of pain. He's broken his hand and injured his shoulder before, but you would only know by the swelling or purple bruising, because he never said it hurt.
Finally, I love that my dad is fun. He would play soccer and football with us in the yard when we were younger. He was so competitive and often got carried away- but that taught us how to be tough! I remember my mom yelling from the house "Go easy on the kids!" We used to love to wrestle with my dad too, but he was strong and could always get us pinned, even when all three of us ganged up on him at once. The game would usually end when one of us started crying, but the next day we wanted to do it again! One of our favorite things to do was going swimming with my dad. While my mom would go in the pool for a five minute dip, my dad would stay in the pool with us for hours, playing all sorts of ridiculous games that we made up. We loved swimming in the pool at night and playing "the sound game". My dad would sometimes come home at 8 or 9pm after a long day of work, and he'd still swim with us for a couple hours in the dark, until the neighbors complained. My dad is in his fifties now, but he still skis with us, rides roller coasters, water skis, rock climbs at the gym, and is still a lot of fun, a little too competitive, and a kid at heart.
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