My Fathers Daughter

My Fathers Daughter


– [Voiceover] You yelled a lot, Dad. And I’m not gonna sugar-coat it. You’d pound your fist on
the table at dinner and say, “That’s enough!” But with seven kids in the
house, someone had to keep order. My fist on the table doesn’t
quite make the same impact with my kids but I look
in the mirror every day and I see you. I didn’t just inherit
your long straight nose. I inherited your love for
photography and books, your tendency to hide in the backyard when the yard is too noisy, and your desire to keep records
of the silliest details. You kept gas mileage logs, but I keep logs of how
many miles I’ve run. I’ve always been the baby of the family, but as it turns out, I’m
also my father’s daughter.

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