The Things We Don't Always Say to Dad

Last week, I found myself reading posts from a woman who lost her father.

Through her stories, I began to feel like I knew him. She wrote about his encouragement, his personality, and the way he showed up for her throughout her life.

As I read, I found myself thinking:

"I hope he knew."

I hope he knew how much she loved him.

I hope he knew how deeply he mattered.

And then I realized something uncomfortable. How many of us are carrying around things we'd like to say to our dads someday? The problem with "someday" is that none of us know how much time we have. Maybe Father's Day isn't really about ties, tools, grilling accessories, or coffee mugs. Maybe it's about saying the things we don't always say. Thank you. You made a difference. I learned more from you than I realized. I love you. I give a sh*t about you.

My own dad isn't particularly sentimental. He's a fixer.

If my brush cutter stops working, he'll figure it out. If my inspection sticker has expired, somehow he'll notice before I do.

That's how he says, "I care."

Not through speeches, but through showing up.

My grandfather was much the same way. They also happened to share a deep appreciation for fart jokes, which may or may not be a universal dad trait.

Dads don't always love us in poetic ways.

Sometimes they love us in practical ways.

My dad didn't teach me perseverance through lectures. I watched him run a small business. I watched him solve problems, deal with setbacks, and keep moving forward when things didn't go according to plan.

The lessons weren't spoken.

They were lived.

Reading about that woman's father made me wonder how many things we leave unsaid because we assume there will be another opportunity.

Life gets busy. One week turns into the next, and somehow the people we love most can end up receiving the least explanation for how much they matter to us.

We assume they know.

And hopefully they do.

But it's still nice to hear it.

That's part of why I smile when I look at our Small & Sassy Ploppals. One says, "I give a sh*t about you." Another says, "Holy sh*t, you're wonderful." And another says, "If poop can grow flowers, YOU can do anything." Underneath the humor are three messages many dads deserve to hear: Thank you for caring. I notice and appreciate you. Thank you for teaching me resilience.

Maybe the gift isn't really the gift. Maybe the gift is the message. The thing you've been meaning to say. The thing they may already know, but would probably still love to hear. Thank you. I notice. You matter. I'm glad you're my dad.

This Father's Day, don't wait for someday.

Tell him now.

with love,
Heather
Founder, Ploppals