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在我生命的每一天，爸爸都是在用无言的行动对我说着他爱我。
“我知道，爸爸，”
我说，“我知道。”
最终我明白了，也理解了。
AfterMomdied，IbeganvisitingDadeverymbeforeIasfrailandmovedslowly，buthealwayshadaglassoffreshlysqueezedejuithekittablefwithaereading，“Drinkyourjuice.”
Suchagesture，Iknew，wasasfarasDadhadeverbeeoghislove.Infact，Iremember，asakidIhadquestionedMom“Whydoesn’tDadloveme？”
Momfrowned，“Whosaidhedoesn’tloveyou？”
“Well，heellsme，”
Iplaiellsmeeither，”
shesaid，smiling.“Butlookhowhardheworkstotakecareofus，tobuyusfoodaopayforthishouse.That’showyourfathertellsushelovesus.”
ThenMomheldmebytheshouldersandasked，“Doyouuand？”
Inoddedslowly.Iuoodinotiillwahertoputhisarmsarouellmehelovedme.Dadoeratedasmallscrapmetalbusiness，andafterschoolIoftenhungaroundwhileheedhe’daskmetohelpandthenpraisemeforwhatIdid.Heasksweretoodangerboytoattempt，andMomwasalreadywhthathe’dhurthimself.Dadhandfedscrapsteelichoppeditaslyasabutcherchopsarackofribs.Themaelookedlikeagiantpairofscissors，withbladesthimyfather’sbody.Ifhediderrifyiright，heriskedseriousinjury.
“Whydon’tyouhiresomeohatforyou？”
MomaskedDadoasshebentoverhimandrubbedhisagshoulderswithastrongsmelli.“Whydon’tyouhireacook？”
Dadasked，givingheroneofhisraresmiles.Mhteherhandsonherhips.“What’sthematter，Ike？Don’tyoulikemyg？”
“SureIlikey.ButifIcouldaffordahelper，thenyoucouldaffordacook！”
Dadlaughed，aimeIrealizedthatmyfatherhadasenseofhumor.Thea’ttheonlyhazardinhisbusiness.Hehadathicksteelplatesaomyearsthetorchhissedlouderthanasteamlootive，athsteel，itblewoffthousandsoftieswarmedaroundhimlikeangryfireflies.
Maer，duringmyfirstdailyvisit，afterdrinkingthejuicemyfatherhadsqueezedforme，Iwalkededhimandsaid，“Iloveyou，Dad.”
FromthenonIdidthiseveryMyfatheroldmehowhefeltaboutmyhugs，andtherewasneveranyexpressiononhisfaIgavetheThen，pressedfortime，Idrankmyjuidmadeforthedoor.
Dadsteppedinfrontofmeandasked，“hat？”
Iasked，klywhat.“Well！”
herepeated，ghisarmsandlookingeverywherebutatme.Ihuggedhimextrahard.NowitwastherighttimetosaywhatI’dalwayswao，“I’mfiftyyearsold，Dad，aoldmeyouloveme.”
Myfathersteppedawayfromme.Hepickeduptheemptyjuiceglass，washeditandputitaway.“You’vetoldotherpeopleyouloveme，”
Isaid，“butI’vefromyou.”
Dadlookedunfortable.Veryunfortable.Imoved.“Dad，Iwantyoutotellmeyouloveme.”
Dadtookastepback，hislipspressedtogether.Heseemedabouttospeak，thenshookhishead.“Tellme！”
Ishouted.“Allright，Iloveyou！”
Dadfinallyblurted，hishandsflutteringlikewoundedbirds.AndinthatinstahiIhadneverseenhappeninmylife.Hiseyesglistehenoverflowed.
Istoodbeforehim，stunneda.Fiheseyears，myheartjoinedmyheadianding.Myfatherlovedmesomuchthatjustsayingsomadehimassomethingheedtodo，leastofallinfrontoffamily.Momhadbeenright.EverydayofmylifeDadhadtoldmehowmuebywhathedidandwhathegave.“Iknow，Dad，”
Isaid，“Iknow.”
AndnowatlastIdid.
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