The strength we don’t always see

The other day I pulled into a Home Depot parking lot to get off the road as I sat in on a teleconference. While I was concentrating on the call, a big muscle, pickup truck pulled in opposite me. Big wheels, souped-up, loud, extra rods and rails all around.

Out from the driver’s seat came a big guy. Shaved head, tattooed,  well-muscled, black glasses, tight, black t-shirt. He could not have been more.

It was a four door truck. He strode around to the rear passenger door. I assumed he was going to haul out some big, ol’ power tool. (Remember I was in a Home Depot parking lot.) He opened the door, leaned in and pulled back out with a tiny little girl all dressed in pink and ribbons and polka dots. Oh, my.

She was maybe two years old, her hair in little pigtails springing up from the top of her head. She clung to Daddy happily wriggling in his arms, bouncing, snuggling, hugging him as far as her little arms could reach around his mass.

What a delightful moment.

You should have seen the grin on my face. (Needless to say I lost a bit of focus on my business call.)

I’ve been thinking about that moment since. About how roles are shifting, expectations softening, and how a big, tattooed man cuddling his daughter can say more about strength than a dozen power tools.

While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.
                                                                                                                 — Angela Schwindt

There’s a short video making its way around the internet right now — maybe you’ve seen it? A dad sneaks on stage at his young daughter’s ballet recital when she was overcome by stage fright. He guides her through every step in full “Dad-erina” mode, an even younger babe in arm. Not for laughs. For love.

Heartwarming.

This is what empowerment looks like, too — the courage to show up with gentleness, to lead with love, to rewrite the rules without needing permission.

To all the wonderful dads out there who are reshaping what strength looks like: thank you. Happy Father’s Day.

And to anyone who’s ever grown into a new role — or softened into a stronger version of themselves — good on you.

There are some lovely, touching stories, tributes and photos around on social media. One photographer, David C. Phillips, I follow on Instagram, captured a particularly charming moment. What a wonderful world.

Have you a favorite Dad story? Or photo? Would you share in the comments below? We’d love to hear.