06/15/2025
This is for the ones who showed up —
not just for the big celebrations,
but for the early alarms,
the sleepless nights,
and the heavy, wordless spaces in between.
For those who learned love not through words,
but through action —
mending what was broken,
lifting what was too heavy,
carrying what no one else even noticed.
To the fathers by birth,
by bond,
by choice —
who became the shelter,
the steady anchor,
the ones who stayed when staying wasn’t easy.
For the ones who worked two shifts
but still made it to the school recital.
For those who stayed silent
so someone else could find their voice.
For those who raised children
who didn’t carry their name,
but carried their heart.
To the worn hands
that built more than houses —
they built character,
they built people.
For every silent sacrifice,
for every burden carried quietly,
so others didn’t have to.
For the ones who loved from a distance,
missing milestones, birthdays, first steps —
working oceans away,
swallowing the ache of separation
just to keep something flowing back home.
For those who traded moments for meals
and still called it love.
For the ones who taught us how to ride,
and how to rise when life broke us down.
For those who protected,
provided,
believed —
even when we couldn’t believe in ourselves.
To the uncles, grandfathers,
stepdads, big brothers, mentors,
and father figures
who wore the name Dad
without ever needing to be called it —
This day is yours, too.
For every man who’s ever fathered a child,
or a soul,
or a life,
in the ways that matter most.
To every man
who’s ever done the work of love,
of presence,
of showing up —
whether from across the hall
or across the planet —
with or without recognition,
with or without applause —
Happy Father’s Day.