Recently, I started watching the TV show This Is Us. One of the episodes was titled “There.” At first, I didn’t think much of it. But halfway through the episode, one line stopped me in my tracks.
One of the characters, Kevin, talks about his father, who is no longer alive. He describes him as the most “there” father. A father who was always there for his children.
That word lingered with me long after the episode ended.
“There.”
Such a simple word, yet it carries so much meaning.
It instantly brought me back to my own childhood.
My siblings and I were blessed with the most “there” father imaginable.
A physically present father. He did not miss anything. Looking back now, especially considering the time and place where I grew up, my father was far ahead of his time.
He was simply there.
When and where I grew up, my father was ahead of his time to be always " there." That was not what fathers did back then. But my father did, he was always present, pushing us to do better, encouraging us in the most subtle ways. He didn't care that we were girls. He taught me to be curious, passed down his love for books and reading. He unknowingly gifted me the habit of journaling, something that has stayed with me throughout my life. He wanted me to touch the sky, to aim high, even when life around us felt small.
Always present. Always encouraging. Quietly pushing us to do better and dream bigger.
We may not have had much money, but we had him.
And that made us rich in ways that mattered most.
He was our rock. Solid and dependable. Somehow, he could make anything happen, and he always did.
Fast forward to now.
The father of my children is also a “there” father, though his “there” looks very different.
His job has never allowed him the luxury of always being physically present, even when he desperately wanted to be. He works nights and days, often unable to answer calls because he is busy saving lives. During the children’s school years, his presence sometimes had to be scheduled months in advance.
But he showed up.
For concerts.
For band competitions.
For volunteering opportunities whenever he could.
And because of the nature of his work, we learned early on that special occasions could not always be celebrated on the actual day. Birthdays, anniversaries, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day; many of them were rearranged around hospital schedules and on-call shifts.
So somewhere along the way, “Every day is special” became our family motto.
And honestly, maybe that was a gift too.
Because being “there” is not always about physical presence.
Sometimes it is about intention.
About effort.
About consistency.
About knowing that even if someone cannot be beside you every moment, they are carrying you in their heart every single day.
He made up for missed moments in other beautiful ways. He took us around the world and gave us his undivided attention during those trips. They say travel is one of the greatest educations a person can receive, and our children have been blessed because of those experiences.
And because of what he witnesses daily in his profession, he is always thinking five steps ahead; for our safety, for the children’s safety, for our future.
The children know they can count on him.
They know he will be there.
Maybe not always in the traditional sense, but in the ways that truly matter.
There were spontaneous ice cream runs, sometimes before dinner. There were late-night conversations, carefully planned family trips, exhausted but sincere appearances at school events, and countless quiet sacrifices invisible to most people.
Watching that episode made me realize something important: “there” looks different in every family and in every season of life. Sometimes it is loud and obvious. Sometimes it is quiet and sacrificial. Sometimes it is physical presence. Other times, it is unwavering emotional support from afar.
One simply has to look at it through a different lens.
I truly hope everyone has a “there” father or father figure in their life.
And to all the fathers who continue showing up in the ways they can, thank you.
Thank you for being there.
My children and I are blessed by fathers who always were and always are “there.”
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