Whenever my brother and I got into trouble as kids, there was always a sigh of relief when Mom said, “Just wait until your father gets home!”
Though he’s a tough nut to crack, Dad’s a softie underneath his big, strong exterior. He has been as long as I can remember, but it became more prominent after he was diagnosed with cancer while I was away at college. He fought overwhelming odds and won; His oncologist and the medical staff began referring to him as their “miracle patient.”
We’ve butted heads many times through the years, don’t see eye-to-eye on many things and Mom has had to referee more than once.
But through the years I’ve learned to appreciate him more and more. He’s a good man with great humor, who is set in his ways, chokes up at movies, gets cranky when he’s hungry, is stronger than he realizes, is loyal and devoted to his family …
I am—without a doubt—my father’s daughter.
We don’t always agree and you may not always approve of the decisions I make, but, Pops, I love you more than you’ll ever know.
Andrea ‘Andi’ Joseph, Lifestyle editor

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A staff member wrote, edited or posted this article, which may include information provided by one or more third parties.

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