Father, I write of in difference with love and compassion

To wade through the time in which I have been fortunate

Enough to share with a wondrous man;

A man who draws incredulity to the sight of my eye,

I see a philosopher, a scientist, an engineer,

To that coupled with a dreamer,

As well as a thinker,

No feat of grandiose measure

Impossible to subdue to that of a man

With a full heart and a brilliant mind,

For that, I look up to you.

Yet I can see the thinker dreams of happiness;

Which I truly believe happiness was never achieved

As foreseen, but happiness sought after in another manner;

Through love of our family happiness followed

In a manner unsuspected, but susceptible to the inevitable,

Happiness was found while dreams endured,

Thenceforth allowing others to grow older and flourish

From the wisdom bestowed upon them,

For that sacrifice, I am unable to thank you enough.

Although, I also see torment among happiness:

Restless nights of plenty pain a path

As similar as the next;

Yet as foreign as before,

From a source unknown at times

And unlikely at others,

But I wish a minimal of those wakeful times,

For I advocate not of that I say;

But of that I mean,

For that I truly am sorry.

All the while a man of pure heart

Continues to emerge the conqueror

Of endeavors that stem from various origins,

Thus creating safety without worry,

In a home of warmth; allowing love,

By providing me with the eternal basis of love

‘Tis happiness I perceived in myself;

And dreams I am enabled to pursue,

For that, I am grateful to call you my father.

From my journeys, I have learned

That even one’s imperfections

Are actually not the slightest of imperfections,

But rather the masquerade of perfection,

Imperfections create the person

That is molded throughout life,

Therefore, deeming such imperfections

As an imperfection is incorrect,

The creation of life, as well as life’s idiosyncrasies,

Is nothing but that of perfect imperfection,

For that you allowed me to realize and wonder.