So yesterday was my dad’s birthday, and while I did get him a gift (because, you know, favorite child duties), I also wanted to dedicate this blog to him. That way, it stays here forever in writing form, and he can come back and read it as many times as he wants—probably while pretending not to cry.

I think some people don’t realize what a massive blessing it is to have a father. And not just any father—a good father. The kind who isn’t just a rule-maker but a best friend, a life coach, a human ATM, and, in my case, a highly questionable comedian. Some people don’t realize how lucky they are until they lose that blessing. But me? I know. I have always known.

Even if his jokes are borderline illegal in the world of comedy.

My Dad, The CEO Who’s Never Too Busy

My dad is a CEO, which sounds all fancy and powerful, but to me, he’s just the guy who picks up the phone in the middle of a board meeting to ask, “Everything okay, honey?” Like, imagine all these serious businessmen discussing million-dollar deals, and then there’s my dad whispering, “Yes, yes, you can order sushi for dinner. I’ll pay.”

That’s the greatest thing about him. He is always there. No matter how busy, no matter how many responsibilities he juggles, I don’t remember a single time when I called him saying, “Dad, I need you,” and he responded with “Later, honey, I’m busy.”

He might be a CEO, but he’s also the CEO of Being There for His Kids™.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend (Who Gossips With His Daughter)

You know how most girls share their deepest, juiciest gossip with their sisters or mums? Yeah, not me. I run straight to my dad. Some people have poker nights. We have “OMG Dad, you won’t believe what happened” nights.

We’ve laughed until we cried, shared wild theories about the world, and debated whether pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn’t, but he refuses to admit it). I go to him for everything. Something good happens? Tell Dad! Something bad happens? Dad will fix it! Something confusing happens? Dad, explain this to me like I’m five!

He even calls me delicate, saying I have “the heart of a sparrow” (because sparrows apparently have tiny hearts that get crushed easily). Not sure if that’s an insult or an adorable observation, but I’ll take it.

A Letter to My Papa (Yes, I Still Call Him That)

Now, to my dear Papa (yes, I call him Papa, and no, I will not start calling him Dad just because I’m an adult now).

Papa,

• Thank you for always being there for me. I mean it.
• Thank you for helping me with my statistics class (read: doing my homework—I mean, helping me understand it,of course).
• Thank you for paying for my university. I told you I’d pay you back, but let’s be honest, that was a lie.
• Thank you for going to my first orientation with me, my first driving test, and all those city hall visits where I just stood there pretending I understood Japanese while you handled everything.

And thank you for your dad-ness. For picking up the phone even when you’re busy. For being my safe place. For making life better just by existing.

I pray you have an amazing, happy, healthy year ahead. I know you always say you want to retire and just garden all day—I hope you get to do that. You also said you want to travel just for fun, and I hope you get to do that too. Just don’t go too far. I still need you to pick up my calls.

With loads of love,

Your youngest daughter (a.k.a. your favorite, and we both know it),

Hannah Kanisawa