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For 52 years my father would get up every morning at 5:30 a.m., except on Sundays, and went to work. For 52 years he would return home at 5:30 p.m., 1)like clockwork, and would have dinner at 6:00 p.m. I never remember my father taking a “night out with the 2)boys,” nor do I ever recall my father drinking. All he asked from me as his daughter, was to hold his hammer while he repaired something, just so we could have some time to talk to each other.
I never saw my father home from work ill, nor did I ever see my father lay down to take a nap. He had no hobbies, other than taking care of his family.
For the 22 years after I left home to attend college, my father called me every Sunday at 9:00 a.m. He was always interested in my life, how my family was doing, and I never once heard him 3)lament about his lot in life. The calls came even when he and my mother were in Australia, England or Florida.
9 years ago, when I purchased my first house, my father, who was 67 years old at the time, spent 8 hours a day, for three days, in the 80-degree 4)Kansas heat, painting my house. He would not allow me to pay someone to have it done. All he asked, was a glass of iced tea, and that I held the paint brush and talked with him. But, I was too busy. I had a 5)law practice to run, and I could not take the time to hold paint brushes, or talk with my father.
5 years ago, and at the age of 71, again in the 6)sweltering Kansas heat, my father spent 5 hours putting together a 7)swing set for my daughter. Once more, all he asked was that I get him a glass of iced tea, and talk with him. Yet again, I had laundry to do and a house to clean.
4 years ago, my father drove all the way from 8)Denver to 9)Topeka, with an 8-foot 10)Colorado Blue Spruce in his trunk, so that my husband and I could have a part of Colorado growing on our land. I was preparing for a trip that weekend, and couldn’t spend much time talking to daddy.
Then, on the morning of Sunday, January 16, 1996, my father telephoned me as usual, but this time it was from my sister’s home in Florida. We conversed about the tree he had brought me—“Fat Albert” he had named it, but that morning he called it “Fat Oscar”—and he seemed to have forgotten some things we had discussed the previous week. I had to get to church, and so I cut the conversation short.
The call came at 4:40 p.m. on that day that my father was in the hospital in Florida with an 11)aneurysm. I got on an airplane immediately, and on the way I thought of all the occasions when I had not taken the time to talk with him. I realized that I had no idea who he was, or what his deepest thoughts were. I vowed that when I arrived, I would make up for the lost time, and have a nice long talk with him and really get to know him.
I arrived in Florida at 1:00 a.m. My father had passed away at 9:12 p.m. This time it was he who did not have time to talk or wait for me.
In the years following his death, I have learned much about my father, and even more about myself. As a father, he never asked me for anything but my time. Now, he has all my attention— every single day!
52年来，除了周日，我父亲每天早上都是5点半起床去上班。52年来，他下午总是准时五点半回到家，六点吃晚饭。在我的记忆里，父亲从未和他的哥们在外过夜，他也从来不喝酒。对于我这个女儿，他唯一的要求就是在他修理东西的时候，我可以帮忙拿锤子。这样我们就有时间交谈。
我从未看见过父亲抱病下班，也不曾看见他躺下打个盹儿。除了照顾家人，他没有别的爱好。
自从我离开家去念大学，这22年来，父亲每个周日早上9点都会给我打电话。他总是对我和我的家庭生活很感兴趣，我从未听他抱怨过自己的命运。当他和我母亲在澳大利亚、英格兰或者佛罗里达州旅行时，他依然会给我打电话。
9年前，我买下了平生第一所房子，那年67岁的父亲在堪萨斯州80华氏度（约26.7摄氏度）的高温下帮我粉刷房子，连刷3天，每天8小时。他不允许我出钱请人粉刷。他仅仅要求我给他一杯冰茶，帮他拿一下漆刷，和他交谈。但我太忙了，我有一家律师事务所要料理，腾不出时间拿漆刷，或者和他交谈。
5年前，71岁的父亲再次在堪萨斯州的酷热里花了5个小时帮我女儿制作一个秋千。这次，同样地，他依然只要求我给他拿一杯冰茶，和他交谈。但我同样没空，我要洗衣服，打扫房子。
4年前，我父亲从丹佛一路开车到托皮卡，车尾箱里装着一棵八英尺高（约2.44米）的科罗拉多蓝云杉，好让我和丈夫可以在我们的地里种上科罗拉多州的一部分（编者注：作者在此用种树的方式来缓解思乡之苦）。当时我正在为周末的旅行做准备，无法和父亲好好相叙。
1996年1月16日那个周日的早上，父亲像往常一样打电话给我，这次他是从我姐姐位于佛罗里达州的家中打过来的。我们谈论了那棵他送给我的树——“胖子艾伯特”，他曾这样命名它。但那个早上，他把它的名字说成了“胖子奥斯卡”——并且他还似乎忘了我们上周谈过的一些事。我赶着去教堂，于是匆匆结束了交谈。
那天下午4:40分，我接到电话通知——由于动脉瘤，父亲住进了佛罗里达州的一间医院。我立刻坐飞机赶去。途中，我想起了那些我无暇和他交谈的日子。我意识到自己并不了解他，不知道他内心深处的想法。我发誓一到医院就要弥补从前，好好和父亲长谈一次，并真正深入地了解他。
我凌晨1点到达佛罗里达州，父亲已经在前一晚的9:12分去世了。这一次是他没有时间和我交谈，或者说没有时间等我来到。
父亲去世后这些年来，我对他的了解深入多了，甚至也更加深入地了解了自己。作为我父亲，他除了我的时间以外对我一无所求，而现在，他成为了我每天无以释怀的内容。
I never saw my father home from work ill, nor did I ever see my father lay down to take a nap. He had no hobbies, other than taking care of his family.
For the 22 years after I left home to attend college, my father called me every Sunday at 9:00 a.m. He was always interested in my life, how my family was doing, and I never once heard him 3)lament about his lot in life. The calls came even when he and my mother were in Australia, England or Florida.
9 years ago, when I purchased my first house, my father, who was 67 years old at the time, spent 8 hours a day, for three days, in the 80-degree 4)Kansas heat, painting my house. He would not allow me to pay someone to have it done. All he asked, was a glass of iced tea, and that I held the paint brush and talked with him. But, I was too busy. I had a 5)law practice to run, and I could not take the time to hold paint brushes, or talk with my father.
5 years ago, and at the age of 71, again in the 6)sweltering Kansas heat, my father spent 5 hours putting together a 7)swing set for my daughter. Once more, all he asked was that I get him a glass of iced tea, and talk with him. Yet again, I had laundry to do and a house to clean.
4 years ago, my father drove all the way from 8)Denver to 9)Topeka, with an 8-foot 10)Colorado Blue Spruce in his trunk, so that my husband and I could have a part of Colorado growing on our land. I was preparing for a trip that weekend, and couldn’t spend much time talking to daddy.
Then, on the morning of Sunday, January 16, 1996, my father telephoned me as usual, but this time it was from my sister’s home in Florida. We conversed about the tree he had brought me—“Fat Albert” he had named it, but that morning he called it “Fat Oscar”—and he seemed to have forgotten some things we had discussed the previous week. I had to get to church, and so I cut the conversation short.
The call came at 4:40 p.m. on that day that my father was in the hospital in Florida with an 11)aneurysm. I got on an airplane immediately, and on the way I thought of all the occasions when I had not taken the time to talk with him. I realized that I had no idea who he was, or what his deepest thoughts were. I vowed that when I arrived, I would make up for the lost time, and have a nice long talk with him and really get to know him.
I arrived in Florida at 1:00 a.m. My father had passed away at 9:12 p.m. This time it was he who did not have time to talk or wait for me.
In the years following his death, I have learned much about my father, and even more about myself. As a father, he never asked me for anything but my time. Now, he has all my attention— every single day!
52年来，除了周日，我父亲每天早上都是5点半起床去上班。52年来，他下午总是准时五点半回到家，六点吃晚饭。在我的记忆里，父亲从未和他的哥们在外过夜，他也从来不喝酒。对于我这个女儿，他唯一的要求就是在他修理东西的时候，我可以帮忙拿锤子。这样我们就有时间交谈。
我从未看见过父亲抱病下班，也不曾看见他躺下打个盹儿。除了照顾家人，他没有别的爱好。
自从我离开家去念大学，这22年来，父亲每个周日早上9点都会给我打电话。他总是对我和我的家庭生活很感兴趣，我从未听他抱怨过自己的命运。当他和我母亲在澳大利亚、英格兰或者佛罗里达州旅行时，他依然会给我打电话。
9年前，我买下了平生第一所房子，那年67岁的父亲在堪萨斯州80华氏度（约26.7摄氏度）的高温下帮我粉刷房子，连刷3天，每天8小时。他不允许我出钱请人粉刷。他仅仅要求我给他一杯冰茶，帮他拿一下漆刷，和他交谈。但我太忙了，我有一家律师事务所要料理，腾不出时间拿漆刷，或者和他交谈。
5年前，71岁的父亲再次在堪萨斯州的酷热里花了5个小时帮我女儿制作一个秋千。这次，同样地，他依然只要求我给他拿一杯冰茶，和他交谈。但我同样没空，我要洗衣服，打扫房子。
4年前，我父亲从丹佛一路开车到托皮卡，车尾箱里装着一棵八英尺高（约2.44米）的科罗拉多蓝云杉，好让我和丈夫可以在我们的地里种上科罗拉多州的一部分（编者注：作者在此用种树的方式来缓解思乡之苦）。当时我正在为周末的旅行做准备，无法和父亲好好相叙。
1996年1月16日那个周日的早上，父亲像往常一样打电话给我，这次他是从我姐姐位于佛罗里达州的家中打过来的。我们谈论了那棵他送给我的树——“胖子艾伯特”，他曾这样命名它。但那个早上，他把它的名字说成了“胖子奥斯卡”——并且他还似乎忘了我们上周谈过的一些事。我赶着去教堂，于是匆匆结束了交谈。
那天下午4:40分，我接到电话通知——由于动脉瘤，父亲住进了佛罗里达州的一间医院。我立刻坐飞机赶去。途中，我想起了那些我无暇和他交谈的日子。我意识到自己并不了解他，不知道他内心深处的想法。我发誓一到医院就要弥补从前，好好和父亲长谈一次，并真正深入地了解他。
我凌晨1点到达佛罗里达州，父亲已经在前一晚的9:12分去世了。这一次是他没有时间和我交谈，或者说没有时间等我来到。
父亲去世后这些年来，我对他的了解深入多了，甚至也更加深入地了解了自己。作为我父亲，他除了我的时间以外对我一无所求，而现在，他成为了我每天无以释怀的内容。