My house officially goes on sale tomorrow. That scares me. This entire scenario seemed fine in my head, but now that it’s actually happening…well, you know…cue second-guessing. There are just so many options to consider…overwhelming decisions.

Anyway, I called my dad today to ask his thoughts on some features of a house I was looking at. He knows about everything…what is likely to break, how much it will cost, etc. Well, it turned in to over an hour conversation, which by the end had me fighting tears and eventually just crying but trying desperately to mask it when I spoke, which seems it should be easier than it is.

Now in the past if I were crying while talking to my dad, it was because I was just so angry and I wanted to strangle him. We both have a fair dose of the Irish temper, and we’re just both two strong forces…but I think I’ve talked about all that before.

What happened today was hearing the truth. Most would pass my dad off as a simpleton for his occupation and lack of education, but I’ll tell you no one has mastered metaphors better than this man. This is what he told me:

Mindy, I used to come home all the time and pick lint off the carpet, even after mom had just vacuumed. I finally realized that wasn’t important, and I could use my time in better ways. You’ve always done everything 100%, and now I think you’re trying for 185%. You’ve got guts for what you’re going after…going out there to that town…it’s something I could have never done, but you can’t kill yourself trying to do it all at once. Like I’ve told you before, if I’m happy farming 1000 acres, I don’t buy another 1000 more. I buy a 40, then maybe an 80. It’s all about doing it gradually. Few people your age are trying to do all this. It’s okay to ask for help. We all need help sometimes.

No one else can really appreciate how hard that must have been for my dad to say to me, and so this time, the tears weren’t from anger, they were a flood of true emotions, finally set free. Maybe it’s all obvious observations, but they wouldn’t have meant nearly as much coming from anyone else.

It’s always been my way to fly solo, and that’s gotten me where I am because avoiding help meant working extra hard and learning to figure out stuff on my own. I guess it all fits with my researcher Kolbe index. I don’t know anyone else who is more dedicated to his work than my dad, and he pretty much does it all by himself, which most people can’t really imagine. Coming from someone who values and realizes the importance self-reliance as much as he does, if he thinks I’m doing too much, I’m going to listen. I think we all worry about letting our parents down, maybe sometimes just more than necessary.