How I Am Like My Father

In my last post, I talked about how I am like my mother. There’s no denying the mother-daughter bond is a strong one, but I have quite a bit of my father in me as well.

Physically I am a blend of both parents, I think more so than my brother or sister. From Dad I get my fair skin and freckles, faint red highlights in my hair, eye color (mostly), and tall, lean build. Judging by the picture above, we also have the same nose.

The strongest personality trait I get from my dad is my detailed-oriented perfectionism. We both like to fiddle with things until they are just right. We both like lists. Dad keeps detailed records on just about everything it seems. I have tried to follow his example with my filing system, but it’s still a work in progress. His parents were both strongly analytical as well, and I think every job review I’ve had mentions my attention to detail.

I love my father’s dry sense of humor and wit and like to imagine that I inherited some of that as well. When I picture Dad in my mind’s eye, it is with a twinkle in his eye. I can’t count the number of times he’s winked at me across the dinner table as we’d share a joke (usually at poor Mom’s expense). It is from him that I learned to love puns (now to my poor husband’s expense).

When it comes to wood and nails, Dad can build anything. I have fond memories of trips to Kipling’s Ace Hardware on Saturday mornings. Now I have a long way to go in this area, but he has shared the Do-It-Yourself spirit with me. Why pay someone else to do what you can do yourself? He taught me that you can always find a use for that little leftover bit of something. And I have collections of ‘little bits of things’ in the basement to prove it. (Scary, huh? 😉

Dad taught me through his example, and occasional soapbox lectures, to be careful when spending money, to track where every dollar goes, and to save, save, save—but to also give generously to those in need.

I still remember the day I got my first email address: it was a Christmas present from Dad. He hid an envelope on the back of the Christmas tree and quietly told me to go looking for another present after all the other presents had been opened. That was back when the internet was still mostly text and separate, individual networks. I used to sit at his elbow, enthralled, as he explained the ways of technology to me.

Dad also passed down to me a love of maps. I remember watching him pore over topographical maps, usually of Colorado. Today I can find hours of entertainment on Google Maps or looking through an atlas.

Mostly importantly, like Mom, Dad has demonstrated a love for Christ and reaching the lost. In my pre-teen and teenage years, he was the head of the missions committee at church. We were always at church for every special missions service or potluck dinner. We knew the details of every single missionary we supported… and there were a lot of them.

Thanks, Dad, for being such a great dad. I am proud to be your daughter.