That's one of my many childhood memories of my father, every time I kissed him, I felt his bristly whiskers. I'm pretty sure I said something similar to my dad.
My dad was strong. Physically and mentally. He owned a grocery store, and as such, lifting/carrying sacks of potatoes and boxes of canned soup, was the norm for him. He started working before 10AM and finished at midnight. Not Monday to Friday, but everyday of every week of every year. I'm still amazed at his single-mindedness.
As he got older, he changed from running a grocery store to a laundromat... how stereotypical can you get? But it meant there would be lot less lifting, and fewer hours.
He was the proverbial underdog. Living in a foreign country, couldn't speak the language, and uneducated, but he pushed through all that crap and by any standards was a success.
I try to take on some of these attributes.
As time is working to slow me down, it's also giving me an opportunity to get faster. Every race I'm in, is marking a new PB.
I'm a lot like my dad, and also very different.
He never took time for himself. He never had the luxury of exercising and he rarely watched what he ate. I don't know if he had made those changes, would anything would have been different. In the end, I guess it doesn't really matter.
Father's Day is in a few days. It'll be bittersweet day for me. I love being a father and watching my girls as they change from infants, to toddlers, to young girls, but this time also gives me pause to reflect. I'm sad that I don't get to enjoy my dad's company and I'm really sad that my kids will never get to see him.
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