This is a comment by John Schtoll on the post “Revelations from a Stalled Car“.
I have only cried once in my life (I am talking full tears, bawling like a newborn crying) and it was when my youngest daughter was in grade 12. She had an assignment to cook a full turkey dinner for her home economics class. It turned out great and everyone seemed to enjoy it. The one thing everyone commented on (including the teacher) was how moist the turkey was and subsequently how great the gravy tasted. The teacher asked her the secret and jokingly she told the teacher she couldn’t because she would have to get permission from her dad. The teacher was quite amazed because she never realized that her dad (ME) was the one who taught her how to cook. My wife can cook and is very good BUT she hates to cook , me I am a good cook and also LOVE to try it out.
As a result of this thing with the turkey she was asked by another teacher to write an essay detailing how her dad has influenced her life. She won an award at the school for both content and writing style and was asked to read it at a local language fair. When she read it, I actually full out cried.
The things I did, I didn’t consider special, just things I liked to do and things we both liked to do together. I wonder perhaps if that is what makes it special, that it was so common for us to do thing together that it was “no big thing”.
Photo credit: Flickr / ReneS