Lessons from the Father's In My Life

What my abuelo, dad, and husband have taught me.

As I watch my husband with our son, I am filled with a sense of quiet wonder.

There’s a stillness in the way he looks at Leo, a softness in his touch that echoes the way my father used to look at me when I was small. It’s the kind of love that isn’t flashy or loud, but it’s there in the small moments — in the way he steadies Leo’s hand when he reaches for something new, in the way he listens to the noises Leo makes, and soothes him when he cries in the middle of the night.

And I realize, that is what my father taught me. Not in over-the-top gestures, but the quiet ways he showed me what it meant to be loved. What it meant to be seen. What it meant to be held, not just physically, but emotionally, in ways that still guide me today.

My father isn’t perfect — none of us are. But what I saw in him (and see in him today) was a deep and abiding commitment to being present. To always showing up, even when life was hard. To be reliable. To be consistent. To let his actions speak louder than words. My father is not a man of many words, but when he does speak, his words carry weight. They are thoughtful, considerate. He taught me that sometimes, silence holds more wisdom than a thousand spoken promises.

He showed me that love is not always flashy or grand action. It’s in the routine, in the shared moments that may seem small at the time. It’s in the steady hand that guides you through a storm, and the quiet reassurance that you are safe, that you matter, that you are enough.

As I look at my husband now, I see those same qualities unfolding in the way he interacts with Leo. The way he takes time to listen when Leo is saying something in his baby language, even if it doesn’t make (any) sense. The way he puts down his phone to engage in play, not because it’s the easiest thing to do, but because it’s what matters. The way he is present, not just physically, but emotionally, with his whole heart. And I see him teaching Leo the same lessons my Papi taught me — lessons about patience, about the power of being steady, of showing up even when life is overwhelming. He teaches him that love is something you give without expecting anything in return. It’s in the small moments, the quiet gestures, the reassurance that you are enough, no matter what.

And I think that’s what we need more of in this world. We need fathers who show their love through action, who teach their children that being there, truly being there, is what matters. That showing up is enough. That love isn’t just about what you say, but what you do.

I also see in my husband the beautiful truth that fatherhood doesn’t have to be defined by perfection. It’s about presence, about consistency, about trust. And watching him with Leo, I know that our son is learning what it means to be loved not by the things his father buys him, but by the way his father is always there for him. In the way he holds him when he’s scared, in the way he listens when he’s excited, in the way he encourages him to explore the world, knowing that his father will always be there to catch him if he falls.

What my father taught me and what I see my husband teaching Leo are lessons that don’t need to be spoken. They are embedded in the way we live, in the quiet strength of showing up every day, in the power of patience, in the importance of emotional presence.

As a parent, I know there will be moments of doubt. Moments when I question if I’m doing enough, if I’m showing my son the right way. But when I see my husband, steady and sure in his role, I’m reminded that parenting is not about perfection — it’s about love, consistency, and showing up.

And that’s a lesson I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.