Last week one of my father's colleagues died suddenly; he was 46 years old with a stay-at-home wife and two young sons. My mother and father attended the funeral. Later that night my father called me. I had just returned from yoga. I was sweaty, tired, and still trying to cool down when I picked up the phone.
My father said; "I love you. I'm proud of you. I don't tell you that enough, and I wanted you to know that."
I thanked him, and then told him that I loved him too. We quickly got off the phone because it was getting too sad/touching...my voice had already cracked.
Of all my father's achievements in his life, he has succeeded most in fatherhood, which benefits my brother and me. Thanks dad.
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