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Today was the last day of my dad working at the church as groundskeeper. I'm not going to lie, I am kind of sad over it. When I asked him how long he had been working there, he told me 25 and a half years. That is pretty much all of my life. It's all I've ever known him to do. Apparently, we took some of our first steps in the office, though I can't remember ever going in there. Ever since I was a little girl, I can remember running all over the grounds, going every where I wanted to when we came to pick him up. One Saturday morning sticks out to me. I had to go to a meeting at 6 a.m., and afterwards, he went to work for a few hours. I was cold and sleepy, so I came into the hall and laid down on the stage, falling asleep. I woke up to someone asking me who I was. I told them, and after they had left, went to my dad to tell him about it. Turns out, he had sent the person over to ask me, instead of outright telling them. Even though I was confused, he seemed to get a kick out of the whole thing.

I will miss running around the property as if it were my own, but my dad is 63, so if he is ready to close that chapter and start a new one, it is all right with me.