I still have mixed feelings about what went down yesterday.

I had one of those 12 hour days at the office (Blackberry blows up for at least 4 hours after that each day) – then off to Home Depot to put in an order for a few things… just a couple thousand dollars worth of wood flooring, molding, quarter-round and paint. Just a normal day for me…

Pulled up my car along the side of my building to unload a few ceiling light fixtures, bulbs, paint samples… again, just a normal day… and inside my condo I found my father. And, the place was a complete mess. Everything was torn apart. We’re talking: furniture pulled out, collections of spackle & cardboard pieces near each wall outlet, my old brass ceiling lighting fixtures on the floor, wires hanging from above my head, and my bed lingering in the middle of my bedroom like an island. Not to mention, the huge rolls of Polyfoam stacked near my treadmill and flooring padding stacked next to my piano that I picked up Saturday from HOBO.

He couldn’t have been there long… maybe a few hours… yet, the entire 750 square feet of space was completely turned over. He had a project in each and every inch of the place. I really don’t think it was just him there – it looked more like it was him and 5 tiny elves running amok in my sanctuary.

In all this chaos – clarity.

My father greeted me at the door – as my arms were overloaded with lighting fixtures, paint samples and a sample piece of molding — with a piece of my mail. I do not know if I even recognized it. He’s concerned. He saw the stacks of magazines, invites, coupons, newspapers, business cards, taxi receipts, post-its — intermingled with a random official notice or two – and amongst it all, my father found my Homeowner Taxpayer Exemption Booklet.

“I am concerned,” he says.

“I am concerned too… I didn’t sleep last night, and I don’t think I will again tonight, I’m now down 2 people on my staff tomorrow…”

“No – this is money,” he continues, “and it was due last month!”

In all that mess… the man found me a way to save money on my taxes. How is that possible? He also had a complete breakdown of the pros/cons of the new stock options my company was offering. I was not even aware I receive THAT piece of mail. At the exact moment he was telling me who to call and specifically what to ask for in order for me to gather the information I needed in order for me to make the decision … ALL I could think was:

“Oh my God, what else did he find? Did he go through my drawers? He moved my bed? What could have been down underneath there? In my closet? When was the last time I emptied my garbage? … Look like you’re paying attention… Seriously, what else could he have found?”

I took notes and nodded. I’ll make the calls.

Oh, and that’s not it… as he proceeded with installing a light fixture and discussing tax law, I walked into my bedroom to find the loads of clean laundry that once laid in heaps on my bed were neatly folded and stacked in piles now.

Then, as I reached my hand under a pile of pillow cases… surprise, confusion — and pure pleasure. The pile was WARM. Warm, as if they were just retrieved from the dryer. It’s been days… it’s not possible. I walked to the iron – which I had left out on the ironing board next to my bed weeks ago — and found it still red hot.

In all the spackling and electrical work… my father IRONED my pillow cases.

And for a man who at times, can be known for liking to brag about what he bought low or sold high… all he said in response: “You need to give YOURSELF a little time.”

He’s right.

I’m not sleeping on wrinkled pillow cases anymore. I deserve better.

Thank you Dad.