I asked my mother to recall some memories of my father while I was visiting her last. She told me a few that really make me happy to think about and make me feel that I really am my fathers daughter. It feels so extraordinary to know things about him. I know that seems pathetic, but it’s true. I am jealous of girls who know or knew their real fathers growing up. I had never had this gnawing feeling that I was missing anything until recently. I had a dream that he had found a way to come back to us but that a bad lady stole him back into death. When I told my boyfriend about it later, I felt so utterly devastated and like I was truly missing something. I cried for quite some time and thought about how little I really knew about him. So while I was with my mother on my last day with her before heading back home I gathered courage for hours. Then when I was on the verge of not asking, I finally just did it and asked her to tell me about my dad. I explained that I really want to know what he was like as a person. I love knowing that I have things in common with my father. 

These are a few things that my mom told me that day…

He liked doing things with his hands and doing work with small precise parts and making it perfect. That’s why he was a mechanic even though he had the opportunity to go to college. 

He was very thin without trying.

He always looked put together and dressed well. [despite being color blind] 

He wasn’t a very gregarious person. He didn’t have a lot of friends but he had a few close friends that he always kept in contact with. 

Mom said that I have his nose. :]

He was acutely sensitive to other peoples feelings. My mom said it was almost like he could read minds.

He wore a lot of blue and although he was color blind he said it just looked nice to him. 

He had a dog that he treated like a person. Her name was Scooter and she rode with him on the truck and wore a diaper sometimes.