At the end of the day, my dad used to discard the change in his pockets into an old cigar box on his

At the end of the day, my dad used to discard the change in his pockets into an old cigar box on his dresser. And each morning, I would dig 35¢ out of the same box, grabbing enough small coins to make a single pay-phone call to my mom, to come pick me up from school. One morning, I went to grab the usual 35¢ and noticed a small book had fallen into the area between the wall and the dresser. Curious, I dug the little volume out - and being a teenager who favored reading and theater over sunlight and sports, it took a few minutes to dislodge the book. When I finally had the paperback in my hands, I noticed the title was “How to Be Your Daughter’s Daddy.” I quickly skimmed through the book. The pages had bold font with single, list-like features and a box-to-be-checked next to each item. They said things like, “Take your daughter to her favorite restaurant. Make the reservation under her name, and when you arrive, pull out her chair before you sit,” or “Rake a pile of leaves in your yard. Let her jump in them,” or “Take her fishing.” I saw a few pages already had checkmarks with dates - and I realized that my dad had been going through the book since 1985, and marking the things he’d already done with me. I saw, “Take her dancing,” was checked off, and remembered the church dance my dad took me and my sister to, where he bought us corsages and Mommy did our hair. I saw, “Share your favorite thing with her,” and remembered the time my dad woke me up in the middle of the night to watch a meteor shower in our back yard, and showed me the surface of the moon through his treasured telescope. It was a lot to take in in the 15 minutes before rushing off to school, and I definitely cried on my way to 1st Period. But what really stuck with me was that my dad loved me so much, that he worked extra hard to make a million beautiful memories just for me. And Daddy, I’ve never forgotten. -- source link

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