Daddy worked at the Empire Tribune (local paper here in Stephenville) when I was born. I rarely saw him back then. I always thought he lived at E-T, and when I did see him, he must have taken some vacation time. Daddy was dedicated to his job. At times, he’d have to work other people’s shifts because they pulled excuses. He used to deliver the paper around the entire county on those days, and that included mornings of snow.... and tornadoes. Daddy taught me the meaning of honest, hard work. Daddy wanted to be a journalist when he grew up. He finished up an associate’s degree in what he said was photo journalism (I’ve never heard of such an associate’s degree as I’ve worked at a community college, but I guess that was true back in the day). He’s the one who taught me how to use a camera. He used to critique all my photos. Every one of my photos was bad for one reason or another. I worked really hard to get his approval on even one photo.... I only got it more recently. His approval meant the world to me. Daddy taught me the value of money. I’ve always been under the impression that Germans are the best at budgeting money (we’ll ignore the current issues with the international airport and museum in Germany and uh - ahem). It seems to be passed down by the men, generation after generation. It’s in my blood to find the cheapest way to do things, thanks to him. He always finds a way to put reasons in my head why I shouldn’t buy such-and-such. He should be so proud of his little girl so far away from home after her layoff and new job because I’ve made all that money back that I lost, and I’m saving money for all these medical issues that keep popping up. Happy Father’s Day to my daddy!
Posted on: Sun, 16 Jun 2013 13:07:42 +0000
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