Wednesday, July 31, 2013

More and more like my Dad.

As I was reading one of my favorite blogs, she mentioned that she noticed that she’s a lot like her father.  Over the last few months, I’ve noticed how I too, have turned into my “father’s daughter.”  Sometimes, I don’t mind it….but then when I realize that it’s some of the traits I don’t particularly enjoy in him, that’s when I mind it the most. 

My Dad is a worrier. His top 2 worries for me, my sister and his grandchildren are always: 
-“Are they warm enough? Do they have a coat?” (Not a sweater, but always a coat! We live in San Diego, for crying out loud!)
-“Did they eat? We need to get them something to eat!”
He’s always concerned that I don’t eat or have anything to eat.  If he had his vision today, I think he could see that not having anything to eat is probably not my problem. In fact, I cook a lot of his meals, so it’s not like I couldn’t just cook myself something to eat.  He’s always pushing me to use his credit card to get something to eat, while I’m out, in case I get hungry.  I’m glad he cares.
So my Dad is a worrier, and he worries about everything under the sun.  I’ve come to notice that unfortunately, I’ve turned out the same way.  My poor Levi, who has to deal with a great amount of these worries.   I really do not like this side of myself, because it’s just unnecessary!! I’m TRYING to do better at worrying less, but sometimes (a lot of times), I fail.  I often chalk my Dad’s worrying up to being a “control issue”, til I realize that that could be my problem too….so then I try to think it’s because we care greatly for the welfare of loved ones.  Yep, that’s exactly what it is!  Maybe…probably….but we’re worriers, fortunately/unfortunately.

My Dad tends to hold grudges.  I like to think I don’t, but I know the truth; I do.  The same type of things that set him off, also set me off.  When something makes me upset, I can start to feel it across my face.  I have the very same mad look he does; the furled eyebrows, dead serious eyes and tight lips.  I wish I had more of a poker face, but I don’t--and he does (Why couldn’t I have that facial trait as well?!?) When my Dad was ever upset with a person or situation, he didn’t hide it.  He made it very clear.  I am the same way.  If he doesn’t like someone, he doesn’t put himself in a situation to be around that person.  Growing up, I thought that was odd, because I didn’t know him well enough.  Now that I’m older, I fully understand.  We both don’t tolerate excessive talking/noise, foul language, crude humor and ignorance.  Our patience level is a little lower than others in our family.  As he’s in his older age, I can tell when something’s ready to bother him because it’s already crossed my mind, as well.  Having something like this in common with him, has actually been a blessing because I always hope to put my Dad at ease, with everything and anything.  

There are good things that I do share with him.  Although we’re worriers, it comes with very good intentions.  We deeply love being around family.  They mean the world to us.  We would go to the ends of hell to keep them safe and protected.  When I was 12, laid up in bed, with a cast and Chicken Pox, my Dad would check up on me ALL the time.  I worried for him since he never had Chicken Pox before, but still he sat on my bed til I would fall asleep.  Every time I was sick, even til now, he makes sure I have everything I need.  Unfortunately, I’ve become very accustomed to this type of bedside manners---I know this won’t always be the case later in life :(  When others are sick, I’ve noticed that I tend to dote/smother them with any type of care I can offer.  I don’t like seeing them down and out, and not try to do something, anything.  
I learned service by watching and hearing stories of my Dad.  I haven’t yet perfected this, but I won’t stop trying.  This has been the greatest lesson my Dad ever taught me, especially since it was always by example.  LDS, didn’t just mean Latter-day Saint, he told me it meant, “Let’s do something”, “Let’s do service.”  Thanks Dad!

My Dad isn’t perfect, but I’ve come to realize that he’s the perfect father for me.  Sometimes I think he’s being hard headed, but I know it’s really just his tenacity……because I’m the same way.  

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