birds of a feather

Mar 23, 2014

I have just spent eight days with my father. EIGHT WHOLE DAYS! This hasn’t happened since he lived with me when I was a little girl. I learned we have some things in common.

He likes raspberry shakes, I like raspberry shakes…this one I remember from when I was little, the other similarities were new discoveries.

He doesn’t like spicy salsa, I don’t like spicy salsa.

He likes to start his morning with protein, I like to start my morning with protein.

He prefers to sleep on his side, I prefer to sleep on my side.

He stays up way too late reading, I stay up way too late reading.

He is a fast walker, I am a fast walker…when my body is working.

He was a smart cookie in school, I was a smart cookie in school.

He loves ice cream, I love ice cream.

We both jump to conclusions quickly. We both are convinced we are right…about pretty much everything.

Anyone who knows me personally knows I have numbers spilling out of me…dates, mileage, prices, phone numbers, etc. Well, my dad does too! He told me about a snow storm across Nebraska that he drove through five years ago and said there were 419 cars off the side of the road. That is data I would have in my head as well. He knows and rattles off the mileage across states on I-80 and I-90. He is a numbers guy and I am a numbers girl. Who knew?

We find the same things beautiful.

These may seem like small things, but to me they are huge. Finding commonalities with my dad is helping my heart be more connected.