To my dad:

Happy (slightly late) birthday! You're 40 years old and, as you so nicely put it, you're finally "middle aged." While I know that phrase probably makes you cringe a little–because I know you're still young at heart–for me at least, it means that you've done and seen a lot in life. You've definitely got a lot wisdom to impart, probably more than you and I even realize. While I'm sure I could never quite put into words just how much you've done for me growing up, I also know that I couldn't let this occasion pass by without at least trying to touch on some of the most important things you've taught me so far in life.

You've taught me how to be brave. When I was in the seventh grade, you began a battle with cancer, a battle that no one saw coming and a battle that changed our family forever. You won, but not without perseverance, not without going through some of the toughest challenges this life has to offer and still coming out okay on the other side. You taught me how to look at something as awful as cancer directly in the eye, and tell it that it won't win; that you won't let it beat you. You taught me how to be strong. You smiled every single time I saw you. Even though you could barely swallow any food, even though your hair was falling out, even though you were going through things that I'm sure I could never quite understand. You believed in God, you believed in the power of prayer and you tried to make the best out of the hand you'd been dealt.

You taught me to love things that other people might call "nerdy" or "geeky." I learned how to play just about every single Mario game there ever was from you. You taught me how to play video games that, at least when I was younger, seemed like the scariest things in the world, and I remember watching you play them when I was little and thinking that my dad was probably the coolest guy in the world. You taught me to love scary movies, and some of my fondest memories with you comes from the billions of scary movies we've watched together because nobody else in the family seems to love them quite as much as we do. You even tried to teach me how to play the guitar, though I'll be the first to admit I'll never be quite as good at it as you are. Essentially, you've shaped a few of my favorite interests in life.

You taught me that nothing good comes easily, that you have to work hard for what you want, and when it comes down to it, you have to be happy with your life and the choices you've made above all. When I was in high school, you pushed me to make good grades, pushed me to get a job and apply for scholarships because you knew I wanted to go to a big college, and you wanted me to be able to do that. Now I'm here, and I know it's partly because of you. Even now, I get confused about what I want to major in and what I want to do with my life all the time, but you've always made sure to let me know that, first and foremost, I need to be happy with my life. I need to do something that brings me joy, not just money, and I think that's an important lesson to learn.

So happy birthday to you! I hope 40 treats you well, and I hope you can impart upon me even more wisdom and life lessons in the years to come. I love you!