When I was a little kid, a father was like the light in the fridge. Every house had one, but no one really knew what either of them did when the door was shut. My dad left the house every morning and always seemed glad to see every one again at night. He opened the jar of pickles when no one else at home could. He was the only one in the house who wasn't afraid to go into the basement by himself. Whenever it rained, he got into the car and brought it around to the door. When anyone was sick, he went out to get the prescription  filled. He set mousetraps. He cut back the roses so the thorns  wouldn't hurt you when you came to the front door. He oiled my roller skates, and they went faster. When I got my bike, he ran alongside me for at least a thousand miles until I _ . He signed all my report and cards. He took a lot of pictures, but was never in them. He tightened up Mother's sagging  clothesline every week or so. I was afraid of everyone else's father, but not my own. Whenever I played house , the mother doll had a lot to do. I never knew what to do with the daddy doll, so I had him say, "I'm going off to work now," and threw him under the bed. When I was nine years old, my father didn't get up one morning and go to work, he went to the hospital and died the next day. There were a lot of people in the house who brought all kinds of good food and cakes. We had never had so much company before. He never did anything; I didn't know his leaving would hurt so much. From the passage, we can see that the writer's father  _  .
loved his family very much loved only about his work was very careless always acted strangely