To The Dad Who Deserves More Than An Instagram Post

To The Dad Who Deserves More Than An Instagram Post

This one's for you.


I know you don't have Instagram, so let me recap. On Father's Day, everyone (myself included) shares photos of them and their dads, telling them how amazing they are and thanking them for all that they do. It is a day flooded with love and appreciation. Offline, cookouts and gifts and days on the boat take place, allowing dads everywhere to feel like today is their day. A day of love, a day of appreciation, a day of dad.

Every year, I post my photo. I write a caption about how great you are, how much I love you. And every year I wonder... Does he know this? Do I show it? Or am I just following the trends? Because sometimes I think that I show everyone else that I love you on Father's Day, and may forget to include you in that.

Maybe it is because Father's Day is nothing new. When you have a dad as incredible as you, it is hard to not show love and appreciation every day. Sometimes, the easiest way to say "I love you" isn't with words. You showed me time and time again when you came to my games after a full day of work, ready and cheering me on. You showed me when you dropped everything to come up to my college just to spend some time with me. You show me every day when you go to work at a place you'd rather not be in order to provide for us and give us the most amazing life you can. Even when you don't say it, those things show me you love me more than I'm even able to imagine.

I try to show how much I love you, too. Maybe it isn't as easy to see, but it's there. When I sit at the counter recounting my day to you, when we banter back and forth until mom says "would you guys please stop?", when I can hardly wait for you to get home or answer your phone so I can give you good news... Even if I don't say it, those things are an attempt to show how much I love and appreciate you.

One day dedicated to you can't properly show how thankful I am for spending every second of your limited time not working with our family. One day dedicated to you can't properly show how appreciative I am for every game you came to and practice you facilitated. One day dedicated to you can never and will never be able to show you how much I love you and how impossibly thankful I am that you're my dad.

But maybe, one lifetime can. Hopefully, one lifetime can. 365 days every year of telling you my great news and watching TV in the living room with you until you fall asleep and start snoring. Of thinking of you and trying to make me proud in all that I do. And maybe just one day of posting a photo on social media to tell everyone else just how lucky I am.

You are my dad, you are my coach and you are my friend. And while you only get one day to be celebrated, know that you deserve it 356 days of the year.


Your daughter

Cover Image Credit: Sara Petty

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I Didn't Know Suicide Could Effect Me, Until it hit my mother

No one knew my mom struggled with the demons that she did.


It was a Sunday morning.

I woke up early, excited to wear my new dress and new boots to church.

While painting my nails pink, and curling my hair, I thought that "today is going to be the best day ever."

My sister woke up and kicked me out of the bathroom. She had to take a shower before we left for church.

Mom and dad were downstairs. Mom was mad. They were going to drive to church separate so that my sister and I could go to Sunday School.

After getting dressed, I looked down the banister and saw that my parents were sitting in the office. Mom was writing, obviously mad.

I walked down the stairs and gave my dad a hug goodbye. I walked around the big cherry desk to give my mom a hug. She just looked at me with glass eyes.

The letter she was writing did not have letters. It was only squiggles.

She began to have trouble breathing.

Dad called out her name. Yelling. Scared. Mad.

"911 What's your emergency?"

"I don't know. It's my mom. Shes not breathing well. Her eyes are glass."

Sirens began to ring, and then stop as they entered the neighborhood. The Engine and the EMS were parked in the road.

As they examined her, my dad found an empty bottle of Xanax. Sitting next to it was an empty glass of water.

The three-month prescription had just been refilled the week before.

The Police arrived and asked for our statements.

We were then following the EMS to the hospital.

She was laying in this little bed.

In a very little room.

They couldn't pump her stomach.

She woke later, saying that we should have let her go.

"You are better off without me."

"No we're not, Mom."

The nurses were mean.

I could hear my sister screaming from down the hall. She never screamed.

We left to go home. Mom wasn't going anywhere tonight. The high was wearing off.

"Happy Birthday, Monkey."


I looked down at my new dress. My Birthday Dress.

It was ugly. It was tainted. I could never wear it again.

This is just the story of my Mom's suicide attempt. Luckily, she was not successful. I got my mom back eventually. But it took a lot of therapy, a lot of patience, and a lot of healing. No one knew my mom struggled with the demons that she did. No one, not even my Dad, knew that she was so broken inside.

Just because someone does not seem to be struggling, that does not mean that they aren't. It just means that they are so strong, they do not want to burden others with their sadness. That is unfortunately the norm. We have lost too many beautiful souls due to the fact of sadness. We need to open our mind and hearts to spread love where it is needed the most.

Vincent Van Gogh
Sylvia Plath
Fredie Prinze Sr.
Kurt Cobain
Robin Williams
Kate Spade
Anthony Bourdain

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