My working heritage

When I was young and living at home ~ before my BIG move into independence ~ I remember thinking my father worked such long hours at the GM factory in our home town. Then after a long day at the factory, he would come home, quickly change his clothes and head out to work in our yard. Tinkering with the shrubs, mowing the grass into perfection, or some other outdoor job listed on a 3x5 card he carried in his pocket.

Maybe working in the yard after a long day at work was a stress release for him, I've never really thought about it. He seemed to be wound so tight in the days of my childhood. A bulging temper seemed right underneath the surface of his conversations most of the time.

Fast forward thirty years.

He is now retired ~ has been for over twenty-five years. I would say his life is filled with a different kind of stress. But one thing is for sure ~ he is a generous loving man. I love my father with all my heart. He taught me the value of hard work. He is a man accumstomed to hard work ~ he leans into hard work. Men like my father, from whose cloth I'm cut, worked a full day to provide food, clothes, shelter, opportunities, and love.

That is an inheritance I am proud of...thanks Dad.