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Neda Ziabakhsh, Low Entropy Volunteer Writer

Not all love is loud.

Some love stands in the background, steady and still—like a mountain holding up the sky. That is the love of a father. Quiet. Solid. Often unspoken, yet deeply felt.

A father may not always say the words, but you can feel his love in the way he shows up. In the way he works hard, not for praise, but so you never feel the weight of what he carries. In the way his eyes light up, just slightly, when you walk into the room—even if he pretends to stay composed.

Growing up, I didn’t always understand my father. His hands were rough, his words were few, and his love was not wrapped in softness the way my mother’s was. But now I know—that was his poetry. That was his protection.

He was the one who made sure the lights stayed on. Who taught me how to stand firm in a world that sways? Who taught me that real strength is quiet, not loud—and that a strong heart can still be tender?

As I walk through life now, I see pieces of him in myself. In how I face challenges. In how I fight for my family. In how I love—fiercely, quietly, completely.

To the fathers who stay up late so their children can dream easily. To those who sacrifice silently. To the ones who speak through actions more than words:

You are seen. You are deeply loved. You are the steady beat behind every brave step we take.

And to my own father—thank you. For being my first lesson in strength and my quiet example of love.

Because the world often forgets to sing songs about fathers like you—let this be my song.

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