Three Things My Dad Taught Me (That I’m Still Trying to Master)
If you know my dad, you know he is everyone’s guy. The one you call when your car won’t start, when you’re building a patio, when you just need to laugh or someone to watch the game with. He’s loyal beyond words, generous beyond reason, and always—always—ready to help. Not because he’s keeping score, but because that’s just who he is. He doesn’t just talk about showing up for people—he lives it, every single day. And over the years, he’s passed on more lessons than I can count. But here are three that stick with me, and that I’m still trying to live up to.
1. Show up like you mean it.
My dad is the kind of person who shows up. Not just physically, but fully. If you need help—from moving a couch to building a deck —he’s already halfway there with a measuring tape and a joke. He doesn’t help out because he has to; he helps out because he wants to. And somehow, he’s always just as excited about your backyard project as you are, maybe more. It’s generosity, yes, but it’s also something deeper: a belief that if he has the time, tools, or knowledge to make your life better, why wouldn’t he?
2. If you’re going to do it, do it right.
This is not a man who cuts corners. He built a bar in his basement that could pass for something straight out of downtown Philly. He turned my parents’ first house into my childhood home, he built my parents’ current home—perfecting every detail for all the Sunday dinners, weekends by the pool, and (God willing) grandkids, to come. My dad doesn’t believe in the word “impossible”—only in “what’s the plan?” He’s ambitious and tireless. He’s also practical and honest. He’s not going to sugarcoat things and he’s definitely not going to do the work for you. But, he will always support you. If you fall nine times, he’ll help you up the tenth—but don’t you dare ask him to help you study for a spelling test without first looking at the words yourself. My siblings and I are better people for having been raised to know the power of hard work, believing in yourself, and going after what you want.
3. And celebrate like you mean it, too.
My dad is the first to ask, “Who should we invite?” For him, joy isn’t something you keep to yourself—it’s something you share. He believes life is better when it’s full: of people, of laughter, of food and drinks and stories that get better each time they're told. He makes sure everyone is taken care of, that everyone has a plate, a drink, and a laugh. Everyone’s appreciation for my dad is palpable — the way people light up when they see him, how instantly at ease they are in his presence. His friendship isn’t just appreciated—it’s felt.
His life is one full of why nots and let’s do its and a quiet but steady belief that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. It’s a sense of ease and optimism that both my parents seem to have… and that somehow completely skipped over their Type A, control-freak daughter. But like I said—I'm learning. Slowly, stubbornly, gratefully learning.
There’s a lot more I could say. About how he believes in his kids more than anyone. About how he somehow makes being practical feel like a superpower. About how he still reminds me a few times a year that no, I cannot put peel-and-stick tiles in my rental bathroom without losing my entire security deposit. About all of my mom’s “little” projects for him — like the time he built a dance floor and somehow put two fully-grown palm trees into the ground of our backyard in the middle of northeast Philadelphia for my eighth birthday.
I hope I carry even half of the loyalty, drive, and wholeheartedness that he gives the world every day. Happy Father’s Day to the man who builds everything—especially the life we all feel lucky to be a part of.
Love, Kate
