Father’s Day can stir up a mix of emotions. For some, it’s a joyful phone call or a shared meal. For others, it’s a quiet moment of remembrance. And for many, it’s a complicated day—maybe even one they’d rather ignore.
I’m grateful that my own dad is still with us at 93 years old, living a full life. My father-in-law, who passed away five years ago, is deeply missed and fondly remembered.
Father’s Day has a way of stirring up memories and emotions—some sweet, some complicated.
What role did your father play in your life? Were you one of the fortunate ones who had a dad who showed up—who set a steady example of love, work ethic, and integrity? Or did you grow up in the absence of that presence, left to navigate life without a loving guide?
The truth is, we don’t get to choose the parents we’re born to. But we do get to choose who we become. That choice isn’t always easy—especially for those who never had someone model stability, kindness, or hope.
So many of our neighbors experiencing homelessness grew up without anyone showing them what was possible. No one telling them, “You matter.” No one helping them build a foundation. And that absence—of love, of guidance, of example—can leave deep, lasting wounds.
That’s why I try to choose kindness. I try to see the person on the street corner not as a problem to fix or a panhandler to avoid—but as a fellow human being. Sometimes all I have to offer is a wave, a smile, or eye contact that says, I see you.
This week, as we reflect on Father’s Day, I invite you to do the same.
Look a little deeper. Lead with compassion.
And remember—someone out there may have never had a dad like yours.
