A letter to the good dads
A letter to the good dads

“Reach out if you require anything.” That’s how my father bid farewell when my family left me at college. A couple of hours later, while I was getting accustomed to my dorm, weighing the decision to head to the dining hall with my new roommate, my dad rang me. “Are you alright? Need anything?” After chatting for a few minutes, during which he mentioned that my mom shed tears for most of the six-hour journey back to Lake Charles from Irving, Texas, he repeated his advice once more. “Reach out if you require anything, Katie. I truly mean it. Contact me when you need.”
Not if. But when. Since he realized I would require his assistance.
I certainly have, indeed. We all do. Require our fathers. It’s not a matter of “if” we require them, but rather when.

Fathers handling the everyday tasks
A significant portion of today’s society suggests that fathers are not essential. Interchangeable. Unneeded. Be it the clumsy fool of a father in a television program or the absent slacker in a film, or the oddly prevalent notion among Twitter influencers that dads can’t handle even the simplest and most basic parenting responsibilities, there exists a sentiment in culture, a coldness toward fathers that declares, “they aren’t required; in fact, they aren’t even present.”
And still, repeatedly, the necessity to witness devoted fathers, possess caring fathers, and be cherished by loving fathers is clear in a fractured, pained, frequently fatherless society. It’s never a question of “if” good fathers are required but rather when we require them, and whether we have the humility to seek their support.
The popular show “Ted Lasso” (spoiler alert here), which has just wrapped up its third (and seemingly final) season concludes with the main character heading back to Kansas after spending three years overseas, all to be with his young son. After leading a motley crew of skilled yet aimless soccer players, converting the football club into a Champions League contender with sheer achievement and increasing potential, Ted returns home to be a father to his own child, serving as the ultimate ideal conclusion to a series that consistently highlighted the influence of fathers, whether they are flawed, exemplary, or simply part of the narrative.
So why does it appear that there isn’t substantial recognition for fathers and fatherhood? Or why does society often overlook decent dads, viewing good fathers as exceptions rather than the standard? Is it due to the portrayal of “bad dads” being excessively prevalent in popular culture? Is it that, regrettably, some individuals have experienced remote, indifferent, disengaged fathers, making it hard for them to conceive of a good one being real? Could it be that many possess a distorted perception of God the Father, seeing him as a stingy despot imposing regulations to constrain our actions rather than welcoming us into a relationship with his compassionate essence, leading us to regard worldly fathers merely as overseers of tasks and distributors of family commandments?
I believe all of the above, to be completely frank. However, maybe we don’t acknowledge and honor fatherhood as much as we ought to because the dedicated dads aren’t seeking recognition. They’re merely being exemplary fathers. No drama. No hassle. They effortlessly fulfill their roles as good dads, requiring no commendation, cheers, acknowledgment, or honors. What they truly need is a family that is open to being nurtured, cherished, safeguarded, and enjoyed. The commendable fathers are those who actively engage in fatherhood, not those grumbling about the shortage of gratitude they or other fathers receive.
In certain respects, just as a certain humility is required to recognize great fathers, there exists a remarkable strength within the most modest dads who engage in parenting in subtle yet vital manners. There is a gentle power in the wonderful fathers that warrants recognition. However, it is not recognition they desire. Instead, what good dads truly wish for are more chances to be the best father they can be.

Showing up
Many years ago, while heading back home from completing an errand early one morning, in a hurry to reach my workplace, my tire pressure warning light activated. I swiftly veered into a Wendy’s parking area and nervously dialed my father.
“I believe I have a flat tire!” I shouted into the phone.
“Settle down, sweetheart, I’ll be there shortly,” my father gently responded.
In just a matter of minutes, he showed up, parked his massive Ford Excursion, opened the trunk, took out his tools, and got started on replacing my tire.
While he was busy, I inquired whether I could dash in to fetch him a coffee or soda. Louisiana, in early September, could very well be the Sahara desert mixed with a considerable amount of humid air.
“Of course. My wallet is on the front seat. Take some cash,” he replied.
“Oh, I can cover the drinks, Dad. You’re replacing my tire.”
“Don’t be foolish. I’ll cover the cost.”
I understood not to contest his decision, so I took a five-dollar bill from his wallet and intended to bridge the gap myself. However, as I strolled by him, he softly remarked, “You better have taken a $10. Five won’t suffice. Bring me the large coke.”
Great fathers. Arriving to replace tires while also covering the cost of their daughter’s coffee.

A beautiful thing
It’s a wonderful gift to have a great father. This may be the key to a deeper understanding of the love of God, our Father. Conversely, it can be the deepest pain when fathers are deficient, missing, emotionally unavailable, unyielding, or even absent. Grasping the love of God the Father without having experienced positive earthly fatherhood is challenging. However, God the Father invites us to connect with him closely, gently assuring us that his love and presence never fall short. He is never missing, consistently available for us. He is never emotionally distant, encouraging us to approach his mercy. He is never unfeeling, as his light brings warmth, healing, and solace. His firmness is not a punishment but a framework to direct us. He is not absent. He is more present than anything or anyone else.
Maybe the sole method to recover from a father wound, or even to value the good fathers we’ve likely encountered, is to move nearer to God, our Father, who encourages us to refer to him as Father from the start.
This is what I value the most regarding fatherhood, in truth. There exists a gentle strength in the father who has accepted his position within the family. He acts as a servant to his children, a mentor to enriched faith, a source of support, material necessities, and essential joy. It is the father who perceives himself as crucial to the dynamics of his family who can humbly, joyfully, and affectionately engage in the significant duty of nurturing and guiding those entrusted to him.
It’s truly a wonderful sight to observe a man evolving into his role as a father, to receive love and support from a person who has wholeheartedly accepted this extraordinary calling, and to understand that genuine, modest, compassionate fatherhood is capable of transforming the world.

Fathers deserving of gratitude
Observing my own spouse transform into a father, continually excelling at nurturing our daughters and supporting our family each day, motivates and encourages me to become a better mother. His role as a dad shines through when he engages in imaginative play as a shopkeeper and restaurant owner with the girls, or takes them for a stroll while I prepare dinner. His parenting illuminates the love of God as he gently guides, clarifies, or inspires our daughters to become their best selves. His fatherhood lays a strong foundation for our girls’ faith, as he demonstrates how to pray and approach the Lord with love and happiness. I’m always most struck by his fatherhood during Mass, when I witness my husband cradling our daughters, seeking the Lord’s presence as he holds the children destined to sanctify him to ultimately be with Our Lord in heaven.
This is the type of fatherhood to value, honor, commend, and support: fatherhood that strives to generously give, and fatherhood that we confidently assert our society must witness. A society that fails to acknowledge the admirable fathers will not motivate more men to adopt the principles of good fatherhood. A society devoid of virtuous fathers is one that lacks not only individuals to assist their daughters with flat tires, but is also a community where both men and women struggle to comprehend the love of God the Father, who is ever-present to support us.
Here’s to the wonderful fathers. May we cherish them, honor them, adore them, be cherished by them, and hope for even more of them.