My hero is not the world’s hero. He is not graced with fleetness of foot, excessive charm, or vast amounts of wealth. He neither asks for nor receives much attention or help from others, and he certainly does not limit himself to the confines of normality. To me, however, he is the prime example of patriarchal perfection, and it is precisely his idiosyncrasies that make him so valuable to me.

My father, perhaps the most natural and classic humorist I have ever encountered, has filled my life with hilarity and love. Oftentimes we have debates for weeks on topics like exactly what composes a salad — we have still not figured it out — or what differences there are between a sweatshirt and a jacket. These seemingly meaningless debates are effective ways of interacting with each other, and I am glad to say that we like to battle our wits daily, sharpening our minds with clever retorts.

It is my father whom I credit with the greatest influence in my life, as my current pattern of existence is heavily based upon his mental and moral values. It is my father who instilled in me an everlasting love of reading. For the first seven or so years of my life, he tirelessly — and, to my delight, animatedly — read aloud a countless number of books, ranging from The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss to The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. My father also shared his library with me, giving me an almost never-ending supply of science fiction, fantasy, and mystery novels as well as nonfiction books.

It is my father whom I credit with the development of my sense of humor. As a person who is capable of fully enjoying life, my father has influenced my outlook on situations and given me the gift of being able to laugh at myself and at situations that would otherwise be considered quite disappointing. Oftentimes when I was younger and I would injure myself, perhaps with a bruised knee or paper cut, my father would offer to pinch me somewhere else, claiming, “if I pinch you on the arm, it will make you forget about your knee!” That almost always had the desired effect of making me giggle or don a wiggly smile.

It is also my father whom I credit with guiding me in the formation of my moral compass. From preschool to high school, my father has stressed three major character rules: be honest, never give up, and try your hardest. As clichéd as that grocery list of character elements may seem, it has nonetheless served me well, and all three items have been major factors in my character development. My father’s advice is perhaps so effective because he gives it sparingly, and only when asked for. My father will not often openly counsel me, but his guidance, when given, is golden. I still recall a time when I was four years old: frustrated by some task, I exclaimed that I “gave up” and would have no more to do with it. My father, noticing my frustration and my excited utterance, looked me in the eye and proceeded to impart to me the greatest wisdom that I have ever received: that I should never, ever say the words, “I give up.” Impressed by the earnestness of his request, I have never since uttered the phrase, “I give up,” without serious mental backlash and regret. His advice from that day has stuck with me for the past thirteen years like no other advice I have ever received.

Perhaps what I see in my father is not what most people would generally consider as influential, but my father has influenced my life, personality, and happiness in more ways than I could ever express with words, and he will forever be my personal hero.