Happy Father's Day!

"Our dilemma is that we hate change and love it at the same time; what we really want is for things to remain the same - but get better." - Sydney J. Harris

When I was in elementary school, I had to write an essay on heroism. I wrote two, but submitted one. The first essay was on my mother, the everyday hero who persevered despite adversity and still finds it in herself to help others in their moment of need. The second essay was on my father and the effort he made on cleaning up Ground Zero despite the hazardous conditions after the collapse of the World Trade Center towers. I submitted the essay on dad and earned the display outside of the principal's office. Though I didn't voice it, the accomplishment was bittersweet. With the long hours he put in, a part of me found it hard to see him as a hero. He was helping others, but what kind of hero wouldn't help his own family?

Nico knows where dad works and what he does, but he also understands there's so much more to a person than a label. Like any human being, dad has flaws. But some of those flaws are his strengths. He leads life with core values and sacrifices a lot to protect those values and those he loves. He is hard-working and focused. He has never shied away from asking for help himself when his language barrier poses a challenge. He makes tea without being asked and knows the perfect amount of honey for each person. He doesn't share my academic pursuits, but he's never shut me up when I start rambling. And a few days later I'll find a link in my inbox about a video he saw relating to whatever topic I rambled. He follows-up when it matters.

I often speak of my mother before my father because her strength and fortitude is much clearer and more distinct in its influence on my life. She would stay up late with me while I worked on my homework. She would drop everything to volunteer to chaperone my trips. Mom's presence emphasized dad's absence. But the presence of the sun doesn't make the moon any less present, just harder to notice. Although he couldn't help with my homework growing up because he arrived home from work with only enough time to eat dinner and tuck my brother and me into bed, dad would always listen to my mock-lectures while driving me to school in the morning, which he insisted on doing even if tired. He taught me, in absence and presence, the tools to be prepared and the impact of active listening.

Let's make the second half of the year better than the first!

An oldish picture, but unfortunately one of the last we look together (that wasn't a selfie in the car)