“I love you” (part II)

I called Dad about two weeks ago, and he told me there was something he wanted to tell me.  He then got quiet.  He said I was the first one he had told, and he was going to tell all the girls.  He said, “You know that I love you very much, right?”  I answered, “Right.”  He said saying I love you was not something he said very much, but he wanted me to know he did love me very much. 

He said when he grew up he never heard that.  He said he told Mom he loved her at special times and that was something he did not say much.  He said I degraded the use of the words like I said it by ending each conversation with, “I love you.”  I told him I meant it when I said it, and I also said that to Paul when we ended our conversations.  Not to degrade the words, but for it to possibly be the last words I tell Paul in case I die that day.

I told him as I was growing up, it would have been nice to hear him say that, but I never doubted whether he loved me or not.  I could tell by how he treated us, he loved us.  He asked me if it made me mad, and I said no.  I told him it was not going to change whether or not I said it.  He told me he was trying to get his life together.