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Dads That Do
Published 5/20/26
When I picture my dad as a kid, I see him in his chair. Five-thirty on the dot, tie loosened,
the news murmuring on the TV. Mom in the kitchen finishing dinner. He'd worked all day.
But I also see him building our house with his own hands. Planting a garden in the backyard and showing all of us,
boys and girls, how to tend it. Loading the car for camping trips and road trips.
Fixing anything that broke. Teaching every one of his kids what hard work looks like.
I learned how to care for animals and others because of him. He provided and he showed up in a thousand ways.
He was the original “Dad That Does.”
The Dads of My Generation
That's the thing I've been thinking about lately. Because we talk a lot now about how fatherhood is changing, and it is. The dads of my generation are in the group text with the dance moms. They do bath time and bedtime. They know which sippy cup is the favorite and which pajamas are the good pajamas. They make pediatrician appointments and pack lunches and remember the no-crust rule. They sit cross-legged on the floor for tea parties, cheer the loudest at the soccer game, and cry at the kindergarten graduation right alongside mom. They volunteer in the classroom and know how to warm a bottle.
They Were Doing Too
But I think we sometimes describe this like dads just figured something out. Like the dads before them were standing on the sidelines, waiting to be invited in. And that's not the full story. The dads before them were doing too, they were just doing different things. They were building houses and gardens and road trips. They were providing in a world that asked them to provide. And quietly, in the background, a lot of them were teaching their sons what showing up could mean.
Fatherhood Keeps Growing
What's beautiful is that fatherhood keeps growing. Each generation takes what they were given and adds to it. My dad did camping trips, extravagant gardens, built our house, worked really hard, and carried babies in carriers (his dad did not.) The dads I know now do all of that and the bath time, the lunch packing, school carpool. They didn't replace what came before. They layered on top of it.
And nobody made them. Maybe they grew up watching the dads in their lives and decided they wanted to be in the middle of every parenting moment, not just the big ones. Maybe their partners are working too, and the math just doesn't math any other way. Maybe they just want to know their kids, not as a project, but as people. Whatever the reason, it's worth saying out loud.
This Father's Day
This Father's Day, we're celebrating the Dads That Do. The dads who built the houses and the dads who pack the lunches. The dads who taught us hard work and the dads who get up in the night so Mom can sleep. The dads behind the camera on every camping trip and the dads who know the bedtime story by heart. The dads at the dance recital and the dads at the kindergarten graduation and the dads who answer the middle-of-the-day "I forgot my school project at home" call. Every version. Every era. All of them. Doing fatherhood in the shape it was handed to them.
To my dad and the dads of his generation: thank you. You did the version of fatherhood you were given, and you did it well.
To the dads doing it differently now: keep going. The little eyes watching you are going to become the next generation of dads, and you're showing them what's possible, the same way the dads before you, in their own way, showed it to you.
Get in the Frame
And while you're at it: get in the frame. Hand someone the camera. Let your kids see you in the pictures, not just behind them. Because someday they'll flip through a Chatbook on their own kitchen counter and see a dad who showed up, all the way.
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