My dad is my personal Chuck Norris

After two weeks of happily bumming around and having faith that God would provide, I got a job.
Starting Monday, I’m joining the alternative press. I texted my dad about my leaving PR and jokingly added “I’ll try not to get arrested.” He texted me back and his SMS reply was so made of win, two of my straight male friends declared they want to marry him.
My father said:
“Well, people don’t see the same truths most of the time. But freedom is the foundation of a civil society. You should strive for a higher calling, not mere dust of history. Good luck and god bless….”
I think I almost cried.
It wasn’t always easy being my father’s daughter. Growing up, I found him stern and distant. But I loved him. I was my father’s daughter and I aspired to his ideals. He has the most moral integrity of any man I know. Once, he had to choose between compromising his moral standards or losing his job. He chose to resign rather than feed his children with ill-gotten gains. Always he chose the high road.
It’s hard, sometimes, having a father like that because the men I meet just don’t measure up. I don’t want them rich, successful or handsome. I want them good, honourable, truthful and courageous. I want to know that they would fight for what is good and true, even if it meant I would play second fiddle to the community or the higher good.
My father’s also done something few people are willing to do. He became a better man not just for himself, but the people he loved. He became a better husband and a better father. For love.
On my 25th birthday, he told me “No matter what happens, or what you do, you will always have my love.” That was my best birthday present. Ever.
For more gushing about my father, here again is the tribute I wrote to him for his birthday.
You’ll always be my hero, Pa
I am my father’s daughter. And that is all I aspire to be.

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