In second grade I elected my dad for president.

When I say elect, I mean wrote on a white poster board “My dad for president” in red, white and blue, to celebrate our second grade presidential election project. Undoubtedly, I acted as the prime campaign manager; promoting his unparalleled qualities, vouching for him, and displaying his countless attributes (like any perfect daughter would).

As his one and only *dearest* daughter, I willingly volunteer as campaign manager yet again (13 years later) to write about him on his very special day. Today we celebrate his birthday! While everyday should be his special day, today my Dad reminds me why I once elected him more than a decade ago. A figure of integrity, intelligence, and influence, my father embodies resilience. Throughout my life, I have never met someone with such strength and bravery. His voice makes me strong. His smile makes me smile. His life lessons have taught me right from wrong. I am honored beyond words to call him my father.

I would not be the individual who I am today, as well as the individual that I will become without the help of my mom and dad. They have always instilled the importance of family bonding time, education, values of morality and honesty, and the need to pursue my interests with everlasting happiness. Henceforth, I have always admired my father’s appreciation and passion for aesthetic beauty. Whether he speaks of art, architecture, design, languages, nature or music, my dad persistently seeks knowledgeable value and creative meaning.

Whether he is conversing with the airport driver at 5 AM, befriending a Concierge manager in Turkish (my dad is a languish connoisseur by the way), or entertaining our family in a plethora of accents (which he also does perfectly), my father always has a smile on his face, better yet, he always brings the utmost joy to our lives.

A man of warmth and wisdom, my father never fails to solve my personal or career problems. When in Elementary School, he taught my 3rd grade class the concepts and constructions of geometric designs, as he made me ever so proud to be his daughter. I owe my A’s on school projects to his uniquely talented architectural style and brilliant vision of thinking outside the box.

I seize every opportunity to be “daddy’s little girl,” holding his hand even when there are no cars, asking him to tuck me in at night, and hugging him ever so tightly. As my confidant, my dad listens to my silly dilemmas and miniscule problems, giving me the most meaningful and supportive advice.

Dad you made me, me. You are full of immeasurable love and relentless strength and I am forever thankful to be your daughter. You continue to motivate and uplift not only me but also the people who love you the most. To my superhero, living legend, and president, Happy Birthday D!

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