Bruises.

Fact: I bruise easily.

I find mysterious bruises on me all the time. Tonight, though, I knew where this one came from: I ran into the dishwashing machine. As I rubbed my sore leg, a memory of my father tiptoed into my thoughts.

My dad worked two jobs when I was growing up. He would leave the house at 6:30am and often wouldn't come home until 10 or 11pm. I always thought that was normal. Now that I'm older, I realize how tiring that must've been and what a sacrifice that was for him. He always regretted not being around more as we were growing up.

No matter how late, I would run to the door to greet him as soon as I heard the garage grumbling. Often a father's favorite part of returning home, right? When I had bruises, I would get the Chinese red box from the medicine cabinet. With my mom working at her computer, channel 2 FOX news blaring in the background, and a number of siblings in line after me, my dad would rub the medicine into our bruises. I can't even remember what the Chinese name for it is, but to this day, it's in our medicine cabinet. I had lots of bruises, but they weren't even a concern because I knew my daddy would be there. Fathers are so important.

So I cry now for the fathers who love as much as they can. And I kind of wish I had the Chinese medicine, too.