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My father and I were constantly at odds. I can't remember how or when it started, but I do remember thinking that he was the meanest, most unfair man alive.
That changed right after I left high school as I started learning more about him as a man, and not just my daddy.
By the time I moved to Georgia, we had a solid relationship-an unspoken one of mutual respect and trust.
He wasn't into sentiment, and I wasn't about to broach my feelings of admiration for him. I thought I had years to tell him how much he meant to me, and how I finally understood the man he was.
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