I won the dad lottery. That’s how I see it. I played no role in my birth, obviously. Just lucky. And wise enough to know that and to be grateful.
I think of my dad as one of the best humans to have walked this planet. That is not an exaggeration. It’s not that he was perfect. No. He wasn’t striving for that. He was striving for goodness. Virtue. Decency. (Hello, manosphere?!!) He was authentic. Warm. Kind. Encouraging. Loving. Generous. And he wasn’t set in his ways. He was open to new ideas and to discussing them without judgment, resentment, or a sense of superiority. He didn’t engage in bravado or any of the BS “masculinity” spin we see on social media today. On the contrary, he would be appalled by it.
My dad passed away at 93 in 2020, unfortunately, from Covid after suffering from Alzheimer’s for nearly a decade. Even though he is no longer here, his spirit remains.
In honor of Father’s Day and this remarkable man, here are 10 things my dad taught me that will stay with me forever.
- Do your part. Everyone needs to contribute to a household, a workplace, and a community. No one is entitled to a free ride, no matter your age or status. When we were young, he taught us how to garden, mow the lawn, rake leaves, shovel snow, and wash cars. This notion of “contributing” shaped how my husband and I raised our kids and how I think about every aspect of my life, from work to philanthropy to volunteering.
- Enjoy the present. He always made everyone feel seen. He was never too busy for a hug or a phone call. He loved a party and relished the joy of being together and celebrating one another’s successes. He was an engaged parent. He attended our games and graduations, visited us at college, met our friends, and visited our homes and offices. On my wedding day, he quietly whispered, “Don’t get caught up in worrying about the details or the logistics. The only thing that matters today is the commitment you are making to one another.”
- Give generously. Several times each year, he sat at the kitchen table after dinner and wrote checks accompanied by short personal notes. Whether he was sending money to starving children in India or to someone in the community who needed a new car battery or help with their kid’s tuition, he quietly extended support – without fanfare or expectations. (Think MacKenzie Scott but with a smaller checkbook.)
- Love generously. His heart was big and full. Even though he had 10 children, he also had the capacity to love his friends, our relatives, and our friends and their kids. He was always eager to meet someone new with a smile, a compliment, a handshake, and a hug.
- Be informed and keep learning. He consistently consumed the news and engaged with what was happening in our community, in our country, and in the world. He devoured the Wall Street Journal, National Geographic, Life, Time, the local papers, and evening TV news. (It’s obvious where my news fixation came from. 😆) Whether it was new technology, new vocabulary, or trends, he was open to learning new things and staying current. When the iPad came out, he wanted us to set him up so he could explore, listen to music, and FaceTime. And when the various AR headsets came out, he was eager to give them a go, too.
- Find your peace. He was a religious man and made sure we attended mass every Sunday when we were growing up. As he aged and when our mother was ill, he began going to church every day, and this gave him peace of mind about his role on earth and what comes after this life. He even participated in silent retreats (before they were a thing) to stay grounded. He said, “The quietness allows me to hear the answers.” Today, I don’t participate in organized religion, but I practice stillness and detaching from technology.
- Evolve your ideology. He grew up with a certain set of religious beliefs around gay people–until we challenged those beliefs and introduced him to our gay friends. He quickly realized they were human beings who deserved dignity and respect, and his heart opened to them. After that, he even corrected his peers and siblings when they misspoke. He also realized that he didn’t need to vote for one political party every year. He listened to what candidates stood for and evolved his views over time.
- Use your voice. He was never one to pick a fight. Yet he knew when his voice needed to be heard. When I was a junior in high school, I told my guidance counselor I wanted to become an industrial designer, but he “guided” me toward becoming a secretary, even though I was on track to be the class valedictorian. The next day, my dad called the dean of the Industrial Design Department at Ohio State to ask if he would spend an hour with me, then drove 60 miles to take me to the meeting. I graduated with honors from that program.
- Get outside. Running a family business and being the breadwinner for a large family is a heavy burden. He never complained. Instead, he showed us a healthy way to cope and blow off steam. He jogged in “tennis” shoes before Nike and Adidas even made running shoes. And rain or shine (or snow!), he routinely took long, brisk walks, which has inspired me to do the same–typically a few miles each day and 10-12 miles every Sunday.
- Be a partner. My mother was a homemaker. She tended to the cooking, laundry, and childcare. He never made her feel “less than” or that he had more power than she did because he brought home the bacon, so to speak. Instead, he insisted on sharing the power, and they mutually agreed she would manage their money. She paid the bills, insured the family stayed on budget, and participated in investment meetings. While many of their household roles were gendered, they broke the mold when it came to money. Maybe that’s why I’m so passionate about being money-savvy (not sorry) and why I wrote a chapter called “Get Good with Money” in my latest book.
Bill Mooney was the best father and role model a person could ask for. He would have been proud of me and my sister, Katy, and the new book, UP!, which we recently launched to help women flourish at work and in life. He would have been cheering us on, sharing it with his friends, and acknowledging that he was learning something new.
Bill Mooney is the ally more women need today.
Bill Mooney is the masculinity that more men must strive for.
Bill Mooney was the engaged parent who believed in my potential.
Dad, your legacy lives on in these notes and in all of us. Happy Father’s Day.
If this resonated with you, please share these “notes on being a dad” with the men in your life or use them to raise the bar on what’s reasonable in a partnership.
You’re equipt with what’s possible for men and fathers.
P.S. If you want to hear my brother and me discuss our family’s arduous caregiving journey during my Dad’s final decade, you can listen here.
