If I open the door to my Dad’s office just a little bit and peer inside, it appears to be a conventional at-home office. I see one of the two meticulously organized bookcases, and note the crisp, cool air coming from inside. I see the pale, tan walls, and the white carpet and ceiling. However, opening the door up all the way and walking inside completely alters my perspective. When I examine the bookcases, I find that the books are about football, World War II, physical therapy, hunting, and fishing. I notice the fishing pole stand filled with rods. I turn around, and see the filing cabinet with its carefully labeled manila files. On top of it lies a music player that can often be heard playing Indian flute music while Dad does his paperwork late into the night. When I open the closet doors, an array of fishing lures, camouflage clothing, USC football tapes, and camping equipment reveal themselves. Next to the filing cabinet is a desk accompanied by a revolving leather chair, which was adeptly hand assembled by Dad. On the desk lies a big monthly calendar which clarifies the dates of his Bible study group, the days he coaches football, his work meetings, and social events. On the corner of his desk, there is a lamp with pheasant feathers protruding from the top. I also notice the paperweight that sits above the stack of patient care papers that he fills out with painstaking detail. It says “the lead dog has the best view”. However, almost immediately, I notice the numerous pictures of his family and friends, and the many keepsakes from them that have accumulated over the years. He keeps those on the ledge by the window, where he can see them while he works.