You are the first man I will always love and remember. My favorite pictures in my baby book are the ones where you're holding me. You have always been there for me whenever I needed you. We may joke that "Daddy always says no," but I know full well that as I got older, Daddy usually said yes, even when Mom said no. You have consistently encouraged me in whatever has interested me, whether hobbies or academic pursuits, and you have also welcomed my interest in your hobbies.
From you I got my imagination and much of my intellectual pattern. You taught me to roleplay, a gift which I hope will last me a lifetime. I learned from you how to appreciate symphonies, science fiction, and Chardonnay. And by watching you, I also learned the value of a fierce determination and loyalty to a cause, and the way to lead without being a leader.
I know I also inherited some of your worst traits as well. The seasonal depression comes from you as much as from Mom's father, and I suspect most of the rest of the assorted mental instability does as well. Like you, I am pompous, anal, and stubborn, but I am without the sheer brilliance that mitigates it in you. And I am quiet, reserved, antisocial, and far too enthusiastic about my hobbies for the people who aren't interested. Yet all of these can be overcome, with work, and I think it makes me a better person for the struggle.
My greatest joy is that now I am an adult, I have the privilege of being your friend as well as your daughter. While I am still learning from you, sometimes I am teaching you as well. It is a great honor to have that kind of respect from someone I love and respect so much. I hope I am always worthy of that respect, and I hope I make you proud.