I think about my Dad almost every day, in stray bits and pieces. It really is as if, after so many years of shoving thoughts of him away because they were too painful, his old self is drifting back to me memory by memory, mote by mote.
Today I thought about my father's financial care, guidance, and wisdom. In high school, he opened a bank account for me and taught me how to write a check and balance my checkbook. He opened a credit card for me so I could start to build credit and taught me how to pay it off in full every month. And when I had my first job as a teenager, he opened a Roth IRA for me and contributed the amount of my earnings to get me started. Before I turned 20, I had credit history and a retirement account.
I didn't understand how valuable any of this was, or the extent to which it showed his love, until it was too late to meaningfully thank my Dad, and I'm sorry for that. But I'll try to do the same for my kids.
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