A letter to the dads who raised us

By Johanna Duncan

Published on June 9, 2025

Dear Fathers,

Thank God for Father’s Day. Not because the holiday itself is essential, but because it offers us a rare moment to stop, breathe, and recognize the quiet greatness of loving fatherhood. In a world that often feels divided, the deep-rooted appreciation for good fathers is something that unites us. 

Even those who’ve felt the ache of an absent father still carry the truth of what a good father should be, and that truth affirms just how deeply fathers matter. To celebrate fatherhood is to acknowledge the unseen labor that builds the homes we live in, both literally and figuratively.

As this day approaches, many of us find ourselves reflecting on the quiet, steady men who’ve shaped our lives. Fathers don’t always receive the accolades they deserve, but today, let us pause to say what should have been said more often. This is an open letter to every father who has carried the weight of family with unwavering devotion, even when no one was watching. It is a tribute to the men who have been the backbone of their families, often sacrificing personal comfort and recognition for the sake of love.

Fathers aren’t necessarily overlooked, but their work is often so consistent, so unflashy, that it fades into the background. Perhaps that’s why St. Joseph, one of the greatest father figures in history, never utters a word in the Bible. We live in a culture that celebrates the loud—the viral clips of dads dancing at recitals or pulling off dramatic surprises.

But real fatherhood often happens in the quiet: the 11 PM pickup from a friend’s house, the calm voice explaining how to jumpstart a car, the strong silence in a moment of distress that says, “I’m here,” without saying anything at all. In the end, the essence of fatherhood is felt, not always seen.

And while it’s beautiful to feel the weight of fatherhood in our own stories, the numbers tell that story too. A 2019 study from the National Center for Education Statistics found that children with involved fathers are 40% less likely to repeat a grade and 70% less likely to drop out of school.

When dads are present—whether helping with math homework or just asking how your day was—kids thrive.

They grow in confidence, stability, and emotional resilience. Fathers’ love doesn’t just show up in life’s major milestones—it shows up in the daily rhythms that shape who we become. The repetition of daily care is where the heart of fatherhood beats the loudest.

But statistics are only part of the picture. The truth is, fathers are often the unsung heroes of every home. They carry burdens we rarely see—deadlines, bills, anxiety—so their children can experience the innocence of childhood. They give us the space to dream, to grow, to wander and return. For many of us, it’s only in adulthood that we begin to realize how much our fathers gave up without ever asking for anything in return. Love, we’ve learned, isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it’s the sound of car keys hitting the kitchen counter after a long day. Sometimes, it’s a hot cup of coffee waiting in the morning. Sometimes, it’s the tough conversation you didn’t want but desperately needed. Sometimes, it is simply the act of staying.

The truth is, fathers are often the unsung heroes of every home.

Fatherhood is a masterclass in sacrifice. Fathers often give up their own ambitions so their children can chase theirs. They forfeit comfort so others can be comfortable. Real strength, as fathers teach us, is not about how loud you are—but how faithfully you show up for the people who need you. They remind us that love is not measured by what you say but by what you do, over and over, without expectation.

Real strength, as fathers teach us, is not about how loud you are—but how faithfully you show up for the people who need you.

Those ordinary moments matter the most. A father’s love isn’t glamorous, but it is relentless. It is the voice that says, “I believe in you,” even when the world doubts you. It is the hand on your shoulder when life falls apart. It’s the example that duty is not a burden, but a calling. And for many of us, it’s the reason we keep going when life gets hard. A father’s quiet confidence often becomes the blueprint we use to face challenges as adults.

Most fathers probably don’t realize how closely we watch them. How much we learn from their patience, their grit, their unshakable presence.

Every time they fix a bike, repair a faucet, or quietly bear the weight of our drama and chaos without complaint, they model for us what resilience looks like.

Even when they don’t have the words, their actions speak for them. They teach us how to face life’s storms with dignity and courage. Their emotional consistency is often the safety net we didn’t even know we needed.

Science agrees. A 2020 study from the Journal of Family Psychology found that fathers who model healthy emotional habits, like problem-solving and emotional regulation, raise children who are better equipped to handle life’s challenges. Their presence isn’t just comforting; it’s formative. It shapes our character in subtle yet profound ways. Emotional intelligence is not always taught through words, but through example, and fathers provide that example every day.

These moments are more than memories. They’re legacies. Lessons in joy.

We remember the little things: weekend brunches, road trip playlists, quiet advice during teenage meltdowns. We remember their stories, their quirks, their passions—like that niche subject they won’t stop talking about, or the way they light up when explaining something they love. These moments are more than memories. They’re legacies. Lessons in joy. In wonder. In finding meaning in the mundane. They are the threads that stitch our identities together.

And while society can sometimes minimize the role of fathers, children never do. We remember who tucked us in at night. Who challenged us to be better. Who told us hard truths with love. Who showed up. Over and over again. Fatherhood is not about perfection—it’s about presence. Even imperfect fathers can leave perfect impressions by simply being there when it counts.

Fatherhood is not about perfection—it’s about presence.

This Father’s Day, let us honor the men who embody this noble calling. The dads who are building empires out of bedtime stories, scraped knees, and after-school conversations. The ones who love fiercely and quietly, who protect without pride, who give without keeping score. You are the anchors of your families. You are the foundation upon which we build our lives. Your consistency is your crown, and your love is your legacy.

Fatherhood is not always biological—it is always intentional.

Let us also remember the fathers who are trying. Those who may not have had good examples themselves, but choose every day to be better for their children. The young dads figuring it out. The stepfathers who love as if blood bound them. The grandfathers stepping back in to raise another generation. The spiritual fathers, mentors, coaches, and father figures who fill the gap with grace. Fatherhood is not always biological—it is always intentional.

And to the men who never got to be fathers but carry the heart of one—we see you too. Your presence in the lives of others, your guidance, your protection, your care—it matters more than you know. Fatherhood is not reducible to our DNA. It is defined by love, sacrifice, and the courage to stay when it would be easier to walk away.

 Let’s honor the men who teach us what it means to be strong, to be kind, to be present.

So this Father’s Day, let’s celebrate the dads who show up, who sacrifice, who love fiercely and quietly. Let’s honor the men who teach us what it means to be strong, to be kind, to be present. Let’s write the cards, make the phone calls, and share the stories. Let’s speak the words we often think but rarely say. Because they deserve to hear it.

To every father reading this: We see you. We thank you. We celebrate you—not just today, but always. Your strength builds our homes, your presence shapes our futures, and your love echoes in the generations to come.

With deepest gratitude,

A Grateful Daughter.

P.S. Don’t forget to tell your stories and jokes. They matter more than you think. 

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Kimberly
Kimberly
7 days ago

I would love to see you soon!
It has been way too long!
Love you always and forever ❤️

JD2028
JD2028
6 days ago

Love this.

lm r
lm r
6 days ago

Is there any way to share your articles on social media?

Sarah
Sarah
3 days ago
Reply to  lm r

Copy the link!

Emily
Emily
6 days ago

Excellent description of my husband and father of our children! He sacrificed, gave everything for us and went without for us.
He made sure they had opportunities to learn and grow.
Good job! Keep it up

Lynne
Lynne
3 days ago

My husband cares for himself first, plays to the applause of the crowd, and the family is a distant third, if at all. He is a functional alcoholic, who has talked big and made many promises that were never fulfilled. He is a functional alcohol who becomes verbally and emotionally abusive. I have become a co-enabler to make everything right so he doesn’t blow up whenever things go wrong. It has been a long (40 year) lonely marriage. Our kids show varying degrees of trauma. I’m just posting this to ask for prayers for us, all our friends are charmed by my husband, even our priest, so there is no use speaking to anyone. I was told marriage is forever, and I had to continue to love him despite all the challenges.

Jen
Jen
3 days ago
Reply to  Lynne

Lynne, I am so sorry and will pray for our Lord’s healing and comfort for you and your family.

Maria Alvarado
Maria Alvarado
3 days ago
Reply to  Lynne

Ms. Lynne, God has a special place for you in heaven. I, too, come from functioning alcoholism in my family and I also need prayer, and trauma still lingers, but our Mighty Father in heaven will heal all of that, if not here, then in paradise. He obviously knew you’d be a special gift to your family. Stay strong in prayer and look for little miracles that he sends, and grab on to Our Lady’s mantle. And remember our sufferings are not without merit if we give it all to him. God bless you.

Irmis
Irmis
20 hours ago
Reply to  Lynne

Lynne,
Your story is my story – with both stepfather & biological. Don’t know how we succeeded in life, but we do have our demons we are working out.
Thank you for sharing your story – you are not alone.

Melissa
Melissa
3 days ago

I had a biological father and a step father.
I came other the realization that my completely non-involved bio father was the actual STEP father ( the step to get me and my sister into existence) and my non-biological father was the DAD … the father … the unsung hero!

Vivian
Vivian
3 days ago

Excellent and most gracious article!

Jen
Jen
3 days ago

This brought me to tears because it’s all true. Thank you.

Sister M. Jessica Herbold
Sister M. Jessica Herbold
2 days ago

My dad was a faith filled, loving, kind, firm disciplinary, and hard working, family man. He was a Master Puzzler, Gardener, Carpenter, Car Mechanic, Fisherman, Driver’s Ed instructor and worked for the County as a Road Grader. He raised 9 children and shared with us his wealth of knowledge. We did not have much money but we had a father whom we love and respected because he gave his all to us. He was known to be the Wise Eagle who didn’t speak much but when he did people listened. Though he and mom argued, their love kept them together. We had a wonderful family life because they worked as a team and gave us the tools that we needed to live productive lives.

Tom
Tom
2 days ago

My dad as a quiet man. He had a 6th grade education, dropped out of school to take care of his family after his dad died, part of Evac hospital in WWII. He worked hard all his life, died in 1979. I got to know him better after mom died (she was awesome also). He had emphysema for years and I had the privilege to care for him. His life was a great example and I hope and pray that I come close to being the man that he was.

Kath Watermann
Kath Watermann
1 day ago

For the past few years I have had difficulty working out in the yard, and then in 2018 it got harder and harder to breathe. After many tests, it was a CT scan that showed Emphysema, and scarring in my lungs. I quit smoking 8 years ago, but the damage has been done. I got to a point I couldn’t catch my breath and was coughing so hard I thought the top of my head would blow off; nothing was really working to help my condition. Finally, I started on the COPD formula, and with the help of this treatment, I’m active again. Its effects on emphysema are amazing; all my symptoms gradually faded away. I breathe much more freely now and no longer need my oxygen cylinder! Google uinehealthcentre. net to get this formula. I’m surprised a lot of people with COPD/emphysema haven’t heard of the formula.

Greg
Greg
1 day ago

The greatest gift I ever received was from one of my sons. It was a 3 feet by 2.5 feet wall picture that read the following:

TO MY DAD:

“So much of me is made from what I learned from you. No matter how far I go in life, you will always be the man that I will look up to. Your the greatest. I love you. Always and forever.”

The hardest work, was challenging institutions that we used to trust. Institutions that strengthend and supported us Fathers. I took them all on. And, from this one gift, knew that I had succeeded and won. I am glad the Catholic Church recognizes our great significance in the shape and development of our families and society.

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