Yesterday, Father’s Day, I spent much of the day driving home from the airport with my wife after a beautiful few days in the mountains with good friends and new acquaintances.

That seems to happen a lot.

Darn near every year, I find myself spending Father’s Day coming home from somewhere fun and enjoyable with my family—exhausted, worn out, with suitcases to unpack and another work week waiting just around the corner.

But I’ve come to appreciate these drives.

Somewhere during those final miles home, when everyone else has fallen asleep and the car has grown quiet, I find myself reflecting on what it means to be a father.

I think about my own dad and my grandfather—what they taught me, both intentionally and unintentionally. Some lessons came from things they did well. Other lessons came from mistakes they made and struggles they carried. Both kinds of lessons have shaped the man and father I have become.

I also find myself thinking about the many other men who have influenced my life over the years—mentors, coaches, teachers, colleagues, friends, and family members. Men who offered wisdom, guidance, encouragement, correction, and examples worth following.

Fatherhood, I’ve learned, is not something we figure out alone.

We inherit pieces of it from those who came before us.

And then we decide what to keep, what to improve, and what to pass on.

As I reflected yesterday, I realized that my definition of being a good dad has changed over the years.

When my girls were young, I thought being a good father meant providing, protecting, teaching, and making sure they had opportunities I never had.

Those things still matter.

But now I think being a good dad is often much simpler.

It’s being present.

It’s showing up.

It’s listening.

It’s apologizing when you’re wrong.

It’s loving your children for who they are rather than who you expect them to become.

It’s creating a home where they know they are valued, accepted, and loved.

It’s helping them discover their own strengths, values, and purpose rather than trying to live through them.

Most of all, I think being a good dad means recognizing that our children are not ours to keep. They are ours to guide for a season.

Our job is not to make them into copies of ourselves.

Our job is to help them become fully themselves.

As a student of Logotherapy, I often think about Viktor Frankl’s belief that meaning is found through responsibility. Fatherhood may be one of life’s greatest responsibilities—and one of its greatest sources of meaning.

Not because fathers are perfect.

Not because we always get it right.

But because every day offers another opportunity to love, serve, teach, encourage, and grow alongside those entrusted to our care.

So yesterday, as I drove those final miles home, I felt grateful.

Grateful for my father and grandfather.

Grateful for the men who helped shape me.

Grateful for my wife, who has been my partner in this journey.

And grateful for my daughters, who continue to teach me what it means to be a good dad.

Perhaps that’s the real meaning of fatherhood.

Not perfection.

Not achievement.

Not having all the answers.

Just faithfully showing up, day after day, year after year, and doing your best to love well.

And if we’re fortunate, someday our children will take a few of those lessons with them on their own journey home.

— Dr. Dan