[originaltext] When I was 11, I loved rock ’n’ roll, and more than anything

When I was 11, I loved rock ’n’ roll, and more than anything else. I wanted a record player for Christmas. Dad’s army salary went only so far, so he took a $l-an-hour job in the Post Exchange, swallowing his pride and working to buy me that record player.
    A couple of months later, my father needed to have a heart surgery. Tragically, the doctor made a mistake and gave him the blood of wrong type, and Dad’s organs broke down, one by one. For five days he knew he was dying.
    On his last day he wrote me a letter. Mom handed me this letter only after I was honored along with other kids at a seventh- and eighth-grade awards dinner.[28]When my dad died in my mother’s arms, the last thing he said to her was, "Make sure Jimmy gets to that dinner and don’t tell him about this until it’s over."
    Mom and Dad had only one serious argument. He wanted mortgage insurance on our home. He said, "It’s the only investment we have, and if anything happens to me, you and the kids will have the house." "We can’t afford it," Mom said.
    Six months after this argument, Dad died, and Mom thought we’d lose the house. But three weeks later the insurance company sent an employee with a check for the entire mortgage.[28]My father had somehow scraped the money together. He was the most remarkable man I have ever known, and he cared for his family above all.
26. How did the speaker’s father manage to buy him the record player?
27. Why did the father’s heart surgery fail?
28. What do we learn about the father’s investment?