Hey Dad,

This is a little weird writing you a letter, but you deserve it. The annual letters you give us at Christmas have always been something near and dear to my heart and I thought it was time to return the favor.

I have always been proud to be your daughter and glad that you were my dad, but when I was younger, I didn’t fully realize how lucky I was. I remember going to your football games in cheerleading uniforms, supporting the team, but really supporting you. I remember our car rides to school every morning, listening to Clay Aiken and when I grew out of that, TobyMac. I remember sitting in the den watching "Kim Possible: So the Drama" movie while you painted my fingernails and apologized if they didn’t look as good as when Mom did them. These little things made me love you and the time we spent together. But I didn’t know how deep your love went for me and our family then, and even though I still probably don’t, I can see it.

As I have grown up, I’ve caught glimpses of others’ situations. I’ve seen how you interact with our family is different than most other fathers and husbands. Not to say that others are harmful or bad, just different. This makes me realize how blessed I am to be yours. I have watched how you lead our family with love, patience and strength. While the relationship you have with our family is different than the way you interact with your students, friends or coworkers, you still carry the same traits. In your middle school class, I was able to see firsthand how the boys at our school looked up to Coach Robinson. You led by example and called people out when their behavior needed correcting. You did these with patience, which is hard to do in a middle school. I was surprised to see how highly people admired you, not because I didn’t think you deserved it, but because I had never thought about it. I was proud to be your daughter then and I am proud to be your daughter now. I beam with pride whenever people ask me if I’m "Robo’s daughter" or if "Tim is my dad." I do this not because of how good of a coach and teacher you are, which is a small part, but because of how good of a person, of a dad, you are. People notice it and I am happy and proud that they do.

I didn’t really go through a typical rebellious, teen angst phase but I did have my temperamental moments, and let’s be honest, I still do. But you can still relate to me. You may not know exactly what I mean when I talk about Snapchat or the latest Kardashian drama, but you do a pretty good job interpreting and relating. You’re a hip dad and work hard to maintain a close relationship with me, and that means a lot. You may not actually be interested in the fact that the Jonas Brothers broke up years ago or that Target had a great sale the other day, but because I care, you care. When I was little, I used to feel bad that you didn’t have a son to do “boy things” with, but as I’ve grown I realized that although I may not be able to throw a perfect spiral or catch a nice red drum (even though I am pretty close to that one) we have a great relationship. I know I can come to you with anything and that you will listen and care about what I say. That is so important to me.

I probably don’t call you as much as I should or text you about my day but I think about you, and everyone else, a lot. College is fun and I’m enjoying it. I don’t really get homesick but whenever I’m home with you, I don’t really want to leave. But you and Mom have prepared me for this and I can’t thank you enough. The most important lessons weren’t taught in your classroom or really even in a conversation. I watched your relationship with Mom and learned what a godly marriage looks like. I watched how you worked diligently at whatever you were doing, even cutting the grass, and learned to follow that example. I watched how your smile and laughter brought people together and learned that a smile really can brighten someone’s day. I watched how sometimes you just sat there, listening and watching, and learned that sometimes it’s best to not say anything at all. I know I am growing up and that I won’t stop, but I won’t ever stop being your little girl. Thank you for everything that you do and that you have done. I love you.

Love,

Your Favorite Firstborn