What Kind of Dad Did You Have?

August 24th, 2008 • Related • Filed Under

This article written by Contributing Writer Matt Pfingsten.

We’ve all heard the phrase “I am becoming my father!” It’s usually uttered with negative coloring, and it is generally descriptive of old school, authoritarian parenting. I wonder if the connotation will change as our kids grow into responsible and reflective adults.

I have avoided writing about my dad on my own blog as much as possible. I suppose there is a part of me that thinks he may be out there somewhere reading every page, and I have no wish to hurt him with sharp words or sarcastic remarks.

See, my dad is a bit of an anomaly. He was awesome when we were younger. I can say without bias that he was one of the best dads I have ever seen. The man spent time with us. Probably more time than I spend with my own daughter. Hours and hours of playing, biking, running, trips, baseball and football games. We had season tickets to the St. Louis [football] Cardinals, remember them? Neither does anyone else!

He bought us toys, bats, helmets, bikes, school supplies, even clothes. I still remember when I talked him into spending $75 on a pair of white Air Jordans. I felt so cool in my parachute pants, Members Only jacket and those killer shoes. I even got a Swatch later on. Basically, he spoiled us rotten. Not just with material things, but with love and attention too.

I never realized, until I became a father, how much time he put in. What did he do for himself?

Then, as we got older, he started to withdraw from our lives. Maybe he felt betrayed by our rebellion against him. Not crazy anarchist rebellion, mind you, but normal teenage rebellion against authority that typically occurs during that stage in life. Perhaps he felt that, after putting so much of himself into our upbringing, we owed it to him to bypass that phase and keep on loving him the way we did when we were young kids.

For whatever reason, the situation continued to escalate and worsen, and we finally stopped speaking to one another about three or four years ago. I admit I just gave up. He came out to visit once when my daughter came home from the hospital, but that was it. He missed her first, second and third birthdays completely. He doesn’t call or send a card at Christmas. No e-mails for Easter.

I kept up my end of the communication for a while, sending cards on holidays and so forth. One-sided communication is hard to sustain though. It never really bothered me until my daughter was born. I suppose I felt that the presence of a granddaughter, his first-and-only, would bring him back into our lives. No such luck.

I’m not looking for sympathy here – I’m just trying to explain how things are.

There are millions of unfortunate folks out there who went through childhood without the presence of a father at all. So, for that, I can consider myself lucky. What does concern me, though, is how abrupt the change in his behavior was. It was as if someone flipped a switch in his head that instantly transformed him. I have been around long enough now to know that there are some traits that a man develops over which he has no control.

According to my sister, some of my mannerisms are identical to his. She thinks of him whenever she hears me cough. And she says I have a way of flipping my thumbs up on the steering wheel to check the speedometer just like he did. These are little things, but they make me think about the bigger picture. What is to prevent “the switch” from flipping in me when my daughter reaches the age of rebellion?

I know that many will say “you’re a good dad, and you know about it, so you can watch for the signs and head it off at the pass.” But he was a good dad too, at least for a while. Did he see it coming? Did he make a conscious choice not to care anymore? Was it really so bad that he had to give up?

I hope I never have to find out for myself. I never want to lose the bond I have with my little girl, even if she goes through a stage where her love may seem greater for others (or herself) than it does for me.

Discovering Dad is a site about “learning what it means to be a good dad,” and to me, good dads don’t give up. The learn how to adapt; they grow up; they evolve; and, they love their kids no matter what, even if their kids don’t seem to love them back. However, as dads, we don’t only learn from our experiences as fathers ourselves – we learn from the example that was also set in our own homes.

I’ll admit that my example was very confusing and remains so for me today. What about you? What kind of example did your father set for you? Did you have a good dad – bad dad – no dad? How has your father influenced the kind of dad (or mom) that you have become?

Please – take a minute to think about this and leave a comment about what kind of dad you had growing up and how he has affected your life today. I know this could be an emotional experience, so I just want to say “Thank you,” in advance for sharing. It was hard for me, and I’m sure it will be hard for some of you too.

Matt Pfingsten is a Contributing Writer for Discovering Dad. His personal site is The Playpen. You can also connect with Matt via Twitter @mattredsparks.

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There Are 32 Responses So Far. »

Comment by DaddysToolbox / Jeff T on 25 August 2008:

Nice topic! Well my Dad was my Little League coach from tee ball until I was 12 years old. When I was in high school and on the soccer team he came to all of my away games. In college when I’d come home to visit he’d get us tickets to Cleveland Browns games. My dad played the trumpet when he was in school, I play(ed) the trumpet as well. We even played for a bit in our hometown church which was nice.

Now that I am a parent, my Dad (and Mom) moved from Ohio to SE PA and live 20 mins from us. It’s nice to have family close by. My Dad bought tickets for myself and 3 yo son to go to a Phillies game earlier this summer. It was fun! My son’s first game (it had a long rain delay – we saw ONE inning! but still fun!)

SO my Dad has always been there to do fun things with me. I am not sure how he did all that stuff and work fulltime with an hour+ commute. He did get up super early in the morning and leave like at 4 or 5am so he could leave work at 3 or 4pm and get home early.

Dad was and still is a quiet type of guy, doesn’t share thoughts that well. I learned that from my mom and therefore an in tune with thoughts and emotions. I also like to interact with my son, same as my Dad did with me. I could interact a little MORE however, and have been making more time for my son, especially when he asks me to play with him! That means soooo much to them!

DaddysToolbox / Jeff Ts latest discovery was..There’s a Spotlight on Me – Featured Writeup of Me
Comment by Jeremy on 25 August 2008:

I couldn’t have asked for a better dad growing up. My dad would play ball with me for hours, and he supported me in everything that his work schedule would allow. He was a great role model for me – loving, engaged, a good husband, swift disciplinarian yet faster to forgive. Now that I’m older, we are truly friends, as well as father/son. I have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for him. I remember him saying often, though, that he wanted to be there for me in ways that my grandfather was not for him. It was a different time back then though, as my grandfather had to work 2 or 3 jobs to support my grandmother and his 6 kids. I’m sure that exhaustion played a huge factor. My dad worked hard too, but he always found time for me. I really appreciate that.
Comment by Mr Lady on 25 August 2008:

My dad? Oh, my dad. He was amazing. He was in a really popular local band in South Philly when we were little. He had band rehersal at our house, and let us stay up all night listening to them jam. He let us each candy whenever we wanted. He put guitars in our hands and drums by our feet and let us watch R rated movies and taught us to solder before we were 5 and to program a computer before we were 10.

And he beat us until we bled almost every single night.

He was fine to include us in his activities, but he was never a FATHER to us. He was either all fun or all blood. There was no inbetween. He left when I was 11.

My brother and I each moved in with him by the time we turned 16. He just could NOT parent. He didn’t want to, he wasn’t capable of it. He turned us loose, asked me to not come home pregnant, and was all of my friends best friend.

He was never our father. He never did homework with us. He never congratulated us. He DID come to all my concerts and stuff at school, but that’s about it.

What I take from this is that I can be nice, and I can relate, but at the end of the day, my kids have enough friends. They only have TWO parents.

Mr Ladys latest discovery was..It’s Official…I Am Thirteen Years Old
Comment by vimoh on 25 August 2008:

My dad was very different from me but he never forced me to become something I was not. I was always told, “I don’t care what you become. Doctor, engineer whatever. But I want you to become a good person.” Don’t know if I am a good person, but I sure as hell am not a doctor or engineer.

vimohs latest discovery was..The Curse of The Dark Knight
Comment by Mark David Gerson on 25 August 2008:

Wow! What an incredibly potent topic…

My dad died just before I turned 14 (40 years ago this month), so there weren’t too many years of relationship to be influenced by. On top of that, he was ill for some years before that.

I remember my father as a man who seemed emotionally distant, a man who never seemed quite present, a man who never really felt like a father.

Some 15 years ago, while clearing stuff out for a long-distance move, I came across a letter he sent me when I was 11 or 12 and in summer camp. The letter wasn’t signed “Love, Dad”; it was signed “Yours Sincerely.”

That sign-off was, I suppose, emblematic of a relationship that was guarded, undemonstrative and detached. So was my response to his death: I remember feeling more shock than grief and a sense that his absence would not leave much more of an emotional void than did his presence.

As I have come to know more about him and about the family dynamics of the time, I have grown to better understand his behavior and to have more compassion for the man he was. Yet it took a long time — and much anger — before I was able to separate the parent from the man and move beyond the emotions of the hurt child I was.

When I became a parent nine years ago, I was very conscious of the unhealthy modeling I had experienced and worked hard — not always successfully — to overcome it.

My daughter’s mother and I separated four years ago and now live in different (but adjoining) states. Although the physical distance has been challenging (and guilt-inducing), I do my best to remain emotionally present and available and to remind myself that my father, though physically present, was always emotionally absent.

It’s easy to grow into our own parents. After all, they are our most powerful teachers and models. What’s more difficult but ultimately more satisfying is to move beyond our parents, taking the best of them and adding it to the best of us as we evolve a new species that will continue to grow in us and through our kids.

Thanks again for the powerful post.

Mark David Gersons latest discovery was..Freedom’s Dream
Comment by Phil on 25 August 2008:

My dad was hardly ever around. His career as a doctor took precedence over his kids and family. So, my memories of him are few and far between up to the age of 11.

When I was 11, he disappeared almost completely, leaving us to marry one of his office nurses and to start a new family.

He stayed in touch through the years, sending us postcards of his world travels, and Christmas photos of his new son.

I’ve heard he was an awesome dad to this new son, who is now a very successful and confident young man (amazing what having a good father figure can do for you).

I remind myself EVERY SINGLE DAY that I CANNOT be like my father.

I think about that “switch” you mention and how hard I have to work to not allow anything to make me want to flip that switch.

My love for my kids must always be unconditional. From now until forever.

Phils latest discovery was..Random Olympic Thoughts
Comment by Dad of Divas on 25 August 2008:

WOW!!! Matt… I can’t say how great a post this was.

My dad was one that was definitely not as present in my earlier years (heard of a momm’s boy?). My father worked hard and was not really around due to late night committments and bringing work home.

This has changed somewhat through the years to him now being a good friend and one that I can turn to (even though he still works a lot – even though he is supposed to be retired).

I find that I too work too much in my career and have to pull myself away from the computer whether it be for work or blogging which is my worst vice… my wife gets on me about it. So I have been trying lately to fight this by doing much of my writing and reading in the mornings… but I can’t get it all done then… so my issues continue.

I think we all try to learn form our fathers and hope not to make the same mistakes they did. I continue to work on it, and hope that my kids will benefit from my learning.

Dad of Divass latest discovery was..Manly Monday #14 – There is More to Your Roots Than Your Crazy Aunt Betty!
Comment by Daddys Toolbox Jeff T on 25 August 2008:

Cats in the Cradle By Harry Chapin

a few select lyrics from a great Father/Son song that is fitting for this post. There are probably many people out there that had lives such as this song details, thankfully my dad was there.

—
My son turned ten just the other day
He said, “Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let’s play
Can you teach me to throw”, I said “Not today
I got a lot to do”, he said, “That’s ok”
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, “I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m gonna be like him”

…

Well, he came home from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
“Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while?”
He shook his head and said with a smile
“What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please?”

…I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job’s a hassle and kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you”

—–

It’s a hard thing to change how you grew up, but if you had a father that wasn’t there much take heed to these lyrics and learn from them. Make all the effort to be there for your children. They only grow up once!
Comment by Writer Dad on 25 August 2008:

Really great post. I don’t write about my own father for much the same reason. I know he reads my words, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings. But I am a fantastic father, and he is the biggest reason. He showed me what not to do in so many ways. I love my father, and he was never abusive, but he never spent the time with me that a child deserves to have with their dad. I’ve never made that mistake and I never will.

Writer Dads latest discovery was..Red Furry Monster Vs. High School Musical
Comment by Matt on 25 August 2008:

Thanks for everyone so far for weighing in so honestly! I have to say, when I wrote this, I expected the “bad dads” to far outweigh the “good dads”. I guess this is taken from my own frame of reference…most of my buddies feel the same way about their dads as I do.

Its great to hear that there are, and were, so many good experiences out there. Even greater to see that, regardless of the experience we all had as kids, so many of you guys are completely committed to being the best dads you can be. Its inspiring, and our children will thank us for it. Perhaps when they reach our age, the “bad dad” will be more of a minority than it is today!

Mark – Great point. Its interesting that becoming a father seems to offer almost instant clarity into our own upbringing, and what it means to be a father, or what it meant to be fathers to our own dads.

Phil-I feel you, man. It seems like it would be such an easy thing to avoid, but certainly concerns me nonetheless. Like you said, just watching for the signs and being aware of it is half the battle!

Mr. Lady – Once again, I am sorry you had to endure those experiences. But as I’ve said before, You’ve somehow managed to become and strong and amazing person throughout all of it, and I have the utmost respect for you.

Matts latest discovery was..Is Preschool Bad For Your Kids?
Comment by Matt on 25 August 2008:

Writer Dad –

It sucks to not have such an important part of your life present during those years when we need it the most. But you’re right, sometimes learning what NOT to do can be almost as powerful as learning what TO do. Glad you took something from it and are making the best of it.

Matts latest discovery was..Is Preschool Bad For Your Kids?
Comment by VegasDad on 25 August 2008:

This is a great post. It’s amazing how you could have a totally devoted dad when you were young and now there’s a disconnect. I guess there are a lot of people that go through the same thing.

I grew up with essentially two dads. My biological dad (every other weekend and vacations) and my step-dad (since I was three years old). I was fortunate that both were very involved in my life and those of my many siblings. We still have a fairly close relationship. The only challenge is the fact that they both moved to the East Coast so in-person visits are rare. I manage to talk to them on the phone at least a couple times a month.

VegasDads latest discovery was..wouldn’t you like to know?
Comment by dadorbust on 25 August 2008:

This was a really thought-provoking post and probably resonates strongly with nearly everyone, albeit for each of us slightly differently.

My Dad worked hard to make sure we always had the things we needed, and has always been there for me whenever I’ve had a problem – no matter when, no matter what’s going on in his world. He truly loves me and my sister more than anything, and I realize that.

But he hasn’t ever been good at communicating it, mostly because his Dad wasn’t. In fact, I’m not sure he ever knew for sure that his Dad was proud of him. As a result, I’m not sure whether I’ll ever know if he’s truly proud of me.

I spend a lot of time switching between being angry at him for not doing the easy things that would make his pride clear – and then feeling incredibly guilty for faulting him for a trait or learned behaviors that he cannot help.

He’s never seemed all that happy. He was taught that his role was to sacrifice his own happiness to provide for his family so they might ascend to greater things in life.

I keep thinking that my next accomplishment will inspire him to tell me he’s proud of me or that he admires something I’ve done. It’s part of what drives me, I suppose. That and the fear that his sacrifices somehow won’t seem worthwhile if I fall short.

These days, we talk every day, but about very little. I listen to the details of his daily frustrations; when I bring up mine, he is not interested. So I mention things that relate to his former career to provide us common ground. And he talks about them on end, in lecture format. And I pretend the 20 minute phone exchange resembles something deeper. And I also feel good about being making the effort to be sure these conversations happen at all.

Our relationship’s awkwardness also drives a desperate desire for a different kind of relationship with my (newborn) son. I want him so very badly to be my friend. I want so badly to have with him the games of catch that I had with other peoples’ dads instead of my own.

I want him to want to hang out with me until I’m old.

I want him to talk about me like Jeremy talks about his dad (above).

I want this more than any amount of money in the world.

Maybe my son will see different shortfalls in me. Maybe I’ll be too permissive. Or too smothering. Or maybe I’ll be a lot more like my own Dad than I’d ever admit.

But I’ll tell you. My kid will never have to ask twice for a game of catch. And he will NEVER wonder whether I’m proud of him.

So maybe my Dad taught me more than I thought.

DadorBust
Comment by Loralee on 25 August 2008:

In many ways my father is wonderful.

He also has a temper.

It’s gotten better as he’s aged.

Loralees latest discovery was..Sideblog: Inappropriate Stumble Upon tag
Comment by isabella mori on 25 August 2008:

great question, and the responses are worth yet another blog posts or two!

i’ve written about my dad here and there on my blog. he was inspiring, manipulative, wise, a womanizer, compassionate, an addict, funny, remote, an accomplished artist, a big slob – an, um, well-rounded individual

he was, above all, not ashamed to be himself. that’s what made it possible for me to accept him, warts and all, and to smile from under my tears while i revealed the painting he had made for our wedding.

he died three days before my husband and i got married.

isabella moris latest discovery was..lazy vacation
Comment by Jeremy on 25 August 2008:

These stories are so amazing. I am humbled and inspired by everyone’s willingness to share, but more importantly by the things that people have learned – good and bad – from their father. Thank you all!
Comment by Emily on 26 August 2008:

Nice article!!! My dad is my super hero.
Comment by Mindi on 26 August 2008:

My parents divorced when I was five. My mother moved us 400 miles away, my father quit his job and moved 400 miles to be near us. My mother then moved 200 miles in another direction and my father quit yet another job to move to be near us.
He spoiled my sister and I rotten, both with gifts and love. Looking back, I remember that the only time he DIDN’T want to hear every detail of our lives was after I got my peiod for the first time and my mother made me tell him about it . I’m now 39, he’s 63 and he is still one of 2 of my favorite men in my life. The best part was that, as I got older I realized that he was not only an amazing father, he is an amazing man. And people say that my husband is a carbon copy of my father,

Mindis latest discovery was..Free Obama-Biden Bumper Sticker
Comment by Alli {Mrs Fussypants} on 26 August 2008:

My dad passed away in a car accident when I was 3. I grew up listening to stories about him, his honorable charactor, his love of people and his philosophy on life.

He used to say, when making a decision, “What will do the most good for the most people?” I try to live by that now, and carry on that legacy.

Alli {Mrs Fussypants}s latest discovery was..Name that Inappropriate Photo Contest
Comment by Julie N on 26 August 2008:

My dad was my hero. My parents never married and parted ways shortly after I was born. My dad kept me because my mom was a bit unstable and he said he just couldn’t part with his little girl.

He was kind, loving, goofy, fun and easy going. Not much upset him, but when he got mad, you knew you had pushed too far. He never held grudges, loved to make people smile and loved the outdoors. He loved my sister and I unconditionally and never failed to tell us often how much he cared for us.

I have many, many, many memories of four-wheeling on the back roads of Alaska so he could play with his winch on the truck to get it out. His mom and step-father built a homestead in Wasilla, AK and we would head out almost every weekend to bring them supplies. We would go fishing, hunting (not my fav) and exploring. He loved nature and animals.

He loved his job with the city of Anchorage because he met so many wonderful people. He loved to chat and would strike up a conversation with a stranger in just minutes.

He loved cars as well and had a garage full of trophies from a local raceway.

He loved Hawaii and after a lot of gentle shoving, he took up scuba diving and kept telling me that I needed to try it. (it’s on my bucket list)

He was a phenomenal photographer and would spend hours outdoors trying to get the “perfect shot”. I plan to create a website in his memory to share this photographs.

When I got married at 19, he had his doubts, but accepted my DH with open arms and lent his complete support.

Unfortunately about 15 years ago, he was diagnosed with cancer and passed away three weeks later to the astonishment of us all. He was just 49. He never got to meet his grandchildren, but I hope that some of his traits live on through me and my sister. He was an awesome dad and I’m blessed for the time I did have with him.

A small piece of advice to dads out there…if you’re anything like my dad, you might spend a lot of your time video taping your family, just be sure to get in front of the camera too.
Comment by Matt on 26 August 2008:

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has shared their stories so far. What an amazing and honest response! I have to admit, I was a bit unsure about whether or not to go so personal with this post, but now I am glad that I did. Its terrific to hear so many different situations from so many different people.

Matts latest discovery was..Is Preschool Bad For Your Kids?
Comment by Jeremy on 26 August 2008:

Great advice Julie! I’m not very good at getting in front of the video camera. I try to do that with the regular camera, but I tend to be the one taking pictures a lot there too. It’s good to be gently reminded of the importance of this. Thanks!
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Comment by Craig on 27 August 2008:

Thanks for your earnest thoughts on this topic Matt. Sharing your relationship with your father has helped me take a long, over-due step toward laying bare and examining my own feelings and thoughts about my father.
Like you, I think my father was loving and engaged in my life early on. He drove me all over the state for swim meets, helped me build pine-wood derby cars for cub scouts and sat with me on the floor with our backs against the couch eating popcorn from an old wash basin watching football on sundays. He was like this at least until he began to withdraw and ultimately leave.
He left at a particularly delicate time in my life. It was the summer before I entered high school. Like most kids that age I was completely uncomfortable with myself and scared to death under my facade of twitchy, teen cool. I remember that he came into my room while I was packing my bag for summer camp and told me that he might not be home when I came back.
At camp I devoured ever morsel of fun from every activity and I held tight every friendship I made.
I cried for hours when I returned to an empty house.
The deceit in the years that followed staggered me. During the divorce, which drug on, my father feigned poverty, living in a trailer that a “friend” was renting to him. This friend later turned out to be a mistress he had been involved with before he left my mom. He claimed the trailer as residence while actually living with his mistresses to procure a more favorable divorce settlement. During this time my mom went on food stamps periodically to feed us and bared the brunt of my anger over the split.
Trembling I had to testify during the divorce proceedings. I don’t recall what I was asked or what I said. I only remember my father staring me down, striking mute any words of betrayal that may have tried to come out.
After that my father made gestures to be involved in my life, but nothing that I needed. When I finally made it to college he never visited me, partially, I thought, for fear that I may ask for money for school.
I stopped trying to make any contact with him sometime during college and maintained the silence ever sense. Anger over him ebbs and flows with my own struggles to find a lodestar to navigate my own life.
His betrayal has left me casting about for an example to follow while trusting nothing I find.
We have a seven-month-old boy who is beautiful and smiling all the time. I love him desperately and I’m terrified of leading him astray.
As a stay-at-home dad I spend a lot of time with him as he explores the world with as much narration as I can provide. I know that being present in his life is key, but after that I’m feeling around in the dark. I know it’s up to me now to turn the light on and make the best choices for him I can, but it’s hard to forget how lost I was after he left.
Comment by Matt on 28 August 2008:

Craig, this is an amazingly honest post, and hit home with me. Many of the issues and memories you’ve shared here instantly give us some common ground. While I can’t say that I was put in the middle of a divorce hearing, my parents did divorce at about the same time. The odd thing is that, for whatever reason, I never truly considered the divorce as a potential trigger in my dad’s absence from our lives. It seems like such an obvious factor, I’m not quite sure why I ruled it out.

I know that terror you speak of, and carry it with me every day. But I also carry the comfort of knowing there are dads out there…good dads like yourself…that share similar experiences that I have had. That alone give me more confidence that I will do a better job with my daughter (and eventually her children) than my father has done with mine.

Thanks for sharing this.

Matts latest discovery was..Should I Let My Daughter Take Drugs?
Comment by Craig on 28 August 2008:

Thanks a lot for the feedback Matt. It makes the exposure a lot easier.
This is a great site. I’ll keep an eye out for your articles.
I’m new to the whole blog thing so I don’t know if it’s uncool to share my blog address outright.
But here it is.
http://fatherhoodcompass.blogspot.com/
I think you’ll find some relevant stuff.
Best wishes,
Craig

Craigs latest discovery was..Land of Poo
Comment by Matt on 29 August 2008:

Craig – With a post named “Land of Poo”, how can I NOT check it out?
Sharing the blog address? Totally uncool dude. Just kidding. I’ll leave the rules to Jeremy….its his site.
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Comment by tom on 3 September 2008:

My dad left us when I was a newborn. He remarried and had three daughters, living sometimes relatively close by and other times in distant states.

Throughout my childhood I visited with him probably ten times. I grew up with only vague imaginations of what a father was. When I became a teenager I went through a phase in which I changed my name because I wanted no association with him at all. I was angry at him for deciding we weren’t worth staying around for. The core of my existence rested on a firm knowledge that I was not okay, different from everyone else and not worthy. Thus I didn’t bother with sports or competitions, and backed down from any fight that might come my way.

Now that I have kids of my own, I am very much trying to be the father I didn’t have, so that my kids can have a chance at a better childhood. It’s a constant effort and requires making a lot of choices that are contrary to my inner dialog.

toms latest discovery was..Disneyland Or Bust
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Comment by Judith on 19 February 2009:

My dad is a cool and loving dad. Sure he has some flaws but he loves us so much and would make any means to earn just to ensure our future. We may not be rich back then but he is a persevering dad.