Happy Father’s Day — to the Single Moms, Too

Father’s Day math.  15 million kids in America are raised by a single Mom.  Approximately 3 million American children are raised by a single Father.  Happy Father’s Day to all 18 million of us. 

The numbers tell a story. But the experience behind it? That’s something else entirely.

I can’t help but think how much we try to find ways to honor and love one another – referring to Hallmark Holidays like Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day, and even Thanksgiving.  Yet, our daily lives are dominated by political unrest, anger in all directions, hopelessness, and even violence.  To whoever it was that thought the days of love up…thanks.  We need more of them. 

This was Father’s Day for Some

Mother’s Day and Father’s Day didn’t come from Hallmark, I know.  They came from Moses.  Back then, every day was Mother’s Day and Father’s Day.  But let me ask you this – what’s Father’s Day like for you? Is it good or bad?  I know that for a lot of people, it isn’t what it’s supposed to be.  Thinking of the ones who’ve lost their fathers, the fathers who’ve lost their kids – to divorce, or even worse.  Then some didn’t have a father, or the dad stories just weren’t like the ones we saw on the Cosby Show…way before the comedian went to jail.

The television images of family life, dating back to the Cleavers, Jeffersons, Bunkers, Cunninghams, Huxtables, Fresh Prince of Bel Air, and the Keatons of Family Ties – I call those images the hopefuls.  Because that’s not the way it is.  From my view, family life in 2025 is defined by a pretty broad spectrum of possibilities.  The worst is horrific, and the best seems too good to be true.  Working in public schools, I’ve seen it all.  And after half a century of life, I both struggled and thrived in different places in that spectrum, too. Let’s call it many vantage points. 

Father’s Day isn’t just a celebration — it’s a reminder of how love survives through struggle.

In 2023, I took my son to the Father’s Day game at Yankee Stadium.  He still wears the hat that commemorates that day- the NY on the hat is a soft blue – different from the traditional white.  My son is an avid collector of baseball and football cards.  Somewhere in his card trading, selling, and buying journey, he came across a Father’s Day card, featuring the behemoth Aaron Judge.  The card was one of the gifts he gave me.  A former collector of cards, myself – this little gem instantly became worth more to me than the Mickey Mantle I’ve had since I was 9.

This is the actual card

He was quick and straightforward about his delivery – Dad, I also got you this.  It chokes me up a little – knowing that however he came across it, he thought to trade for it to get it for me.  All the stress of life disappears in moments like that.

The moments we live for aren’t always the ones at the top of the mountain or the book on the beach.  Any moment can qualify as the next great one – and I’ve really come to recognize, appreciate, and cherish them.  It’s like my radar is up – constantly scanning for the next one to hit.  Because you know and I know that the day-to-day grind of life is tough.  Seemingly, one proverbial punch, slap, or kick after the other. 

I got to a point where, when things were going well, I didn’t want to tell anybody.  Whatever it was that was working, I feared that someone would try to take it away.  So, I stopped talking about the good. I tucked it inside like a secret.

Because when you’ve been hurt, shamed, or left behind, joy feels fragile. And fleeting. Like maybe you don’t deserve it. Or you know, it just can’t last.

But that’s precisely when we need to speak it the loudest.

See, that little baseball card wasn’t just a gift — it was proof. Proof that my son knows I’m showing up for him. Proof that despite everything I’ve lost, I still have the one thing I fought the hardest to keep: a relationship with my kid.

That card is a reminder that being a father isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being there. It’s about being honest when you're tired, vulnerable when you're scared, and steady when everything else is shaky. It’s about walking through the fire — custody battles, job losses, a crutch that couldn’t hold anymore, guilt — and still being able to say, "I’m here. I love you. I’m not going anywhere."

So for this Father’s Day, I’m not just honoring dads who made it look easy. I’m celebrating the ones who make it through — one imperfect, heroic day at a time. The dads who cry in silence, who trade baseball cards to stay connected, who keep showing up even when they feel like they’re losing. The ones who hold it together just long enough to build a better life for someone else.

Aside from the statistical 18 million who are doing it alone, there are others out there.  They’re facing this struggle too.  It can be just as tough for the Moms and Dads who are together.  And way, way tougher for the ones who are together on paper…yet doing it all alone. 

If you are in this group – read the following lines as many times as you must. 

To your children, you matter more than you know.  If you feel stressed, even broken in some way – it doesn’t make you any less of a mom or a dad.  It just means that you care enough to do it right. 

If you’ve got a card, a moment, or a person worth holding onto — tell them. Celebrate them. This world needs more of that.