Last week was my father's birthday. I was not able to be home with him, or to see him because college got in the way. The five-hour trip home and the five-hour trip back is difficult when I have classes to attend and homework to do. Although I was not able to be home with him, I was thinking of him. This letter is for him.

Hi Daddy,

I'm writing this letter to you because there are a lot of things that go unsaid, and you could use a reminder of how much I appreciate you. You've taught me a lot over the past 18 years, and I know you won't stop teaching me. Sometimes, I make it seem like you haven't taught me anything, and I'm sorry for all the times I've done the opposite of what you've told me. Mistakes have to be made, and I'm stubborn. I know you know that, and mom likes to say I get my stubbornness (and my looks) from you. But sometimes I don't like to do what I've been told, so I need to be wrong and learn from it myself.

You taught me that change is good. When we moved, I was scared, but you were strong, and watching you I realized that it was an adventure we were all embarking on together. You taught me the importance of reading (both you and mom did, actually), and you helped show me that it could take me to a different world. All those nights that you sat on the floor with us surrounding you as you read us a story before it was time for bed have stuck with me for years.

You taught me how to drive (although that wasn't really your choice because mom couldn't handle teaching us). She was too scared of the possibility of us messing up. You just sat in the passenger seat, and let me figure out most of it. You'd quietly answer any questions I had for you, but for the most part, we would talk about anything other than driving. I was scared, but your quiet reassurances helped me realize that I could do more than I thought I could. Those reassurances were not only with driving either.

One of the most important things you taught me was taught this past year. You've been there to watch me grow from a toddler all the way to starting college. This past year at college, and getting ready to go to college, you've focused even more on the main point parents try to teach their kids — how to be an adult. You were there for me to call every time I had a stupid question about how a debit card works and how to do any sort of banking (which I still don't fully understand, but I have a few years to completely learn that).

You've been there to talk me through every single car issue that has terrified me in the months I've been away. First it was the engine light, then my rear lights not working, then a different car with a broken headlight, then a broken side mirror and now another headlight out. There have been way too many car issues for my liking, and I know you agree, but thank you for helping me with each one.

Most importantly, though, you were there when my debit card was denied at Walmart, and I called you and mom at 10 o'clock because I was freaking out at the register. You told me what to do, and preceded to call me after I was back at school just to tell me you were proud of me for handling it. I had replied to you with a shaky voice and said, "If this is what being an adult is, I don't want to be an adult." And you told me, "Being an adult and having these responsibilities is terrifying, especially now, but you just proved to me that you can handle it. I know you can handle it, and I'll be here to help you through the transition."

That one night has stuck with me, and I know I won't forget it. Hearing you tell me that eased a weight off my shoulders that I hadn't known was there. I was terrified to grow up (I still am), but knowing that you are always going to be there for me to call, whether it's an important question or a pointless one, means the world to me.

Thank you, not for being a flawless dad, but for being the most hardworking, perfectly imperfect father any girl could have asked for.

Love, your youngest,

"Malgal"