When I was five years old, back when you still had your mustache, I thought you were the strongest and smartest person I knew. I knew you would carry me up four flights of apartment building stairs if I was sound asleep in the car, so sometimes, I would pretend to sleep so I wouldn't have to walk. The beauty of our relationship was not in my laziness, but in the fact that I was so certain you would carry me no matter how tired you were from work.

The fact is, you still carry me today. Not literally, but emotionally in every way.

You carry the weight of my tears when they fall.

You carry my anger misdirected at you.

You carry my happiness by sacrificing your own.

You carry my love and match it tenfold with your own.

You seem to be carrying the world's weight on your shoulder, but you don't let that stop you from being my best friend. You are always ready to go adventuring through different food attractions, through the mountains and concerts. I remember once, I was complaining about not being able to paint my right hand before my big eighth grade formal, so you sat down and painted my right hand with intense concentration.

We are mirror images of each other not only physically but personality wise as well. I see a part of you in me always, whether it's my love for food and cooking or a passion for history. We are so similar, it sometimes feels like you are an extension of my soul. When you were gone for 20 days, I might have cried for the first five days without you because we spend so much time together.

From my first steps to teaching me how to drive a car, Dad, you have been there for it all.

Happy Father's Day!