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My Dad died when I was 17 and I am so grateful for the memories of the things he did with me. He didn't necessarily do something "special" every week but he taught me a lot of things.
He taught me to ride horses,ride motorcycles, drive a stickshift,fish, shoot guns, and love animals. He took me shopping and to the movies. He was a wonderful artist and he used to draw pictures for me. One of the neatest things he always did was give me cards, even if it was not a special occasion. My parents were married and I have an older brother and sister but these are all things he did one on one with me. He could be a real ass and a major jerk especially when he first got leukemia but was not yet diagnosed. He had awful headaches that turned him into a bear. But I really am grateful for the time he spent with me and I vividly remember that usually the simpler the time we spent was, the more it meant.
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