Fatherhood doesn’t follow a single pattern. It reveals itself in quiet strength, dependable hands, thoughtful words, and everyday sacrifices. In my life, I’ve been blessed by many kinds of fathers, each one shaping not just the next generation, but the very heart of our family.

I’ve always been a daddy’s girl. My dad is my hero, and that will never change. His life is a testimony to servant-hearted leadership. Over the years, he has worn many hats: police officer, pastor, investigator, county commissioner, and state delegate. But the one constant has been his deep commitment to others. Whether standing behind a pulpit, sitting in a House Chamber, or walking beside someone in need, he leads with conviction and compassion. He never sought status. He simply followed the call to do what was right, and in doing so, became the man I admire most.

My brother, Jon is a wonderful father to his son, Wesley, and a constant in the lives of his stepdaughters. I’ve watched him grow into himself more and more with each passing year. He is present, thoughtful, and willing to learn as he goes. He loves his son with a full heart and walks alongside his girls with patience and care. I’m proud of the man he is becoming, and even more proud of the man he has already been to my own children over the years. Whether it was a quick laugh in the middle of a hard moment or his dependable presence when things felt uncertain, Jon has been a source of love and laughter in our lives. He reminds us that fatherhood can look like joy, loyalty, and showing up without needing to be asked.

Bo, my stepdad, never tried to take anyone’s place. He simply became someone we couldn’t imagine our lives without. He has taught the boys how to change their oil, fix their cars, and take pride in learning what they don’t yet know. Through his military service and steady love, he has modeled integrity, resilience, and the value of being present. When life feels heavy, Bo is the one they call to vent, process, or simply breathe.

My father-in-law, Rich, is a man built from the backbone of this region. As a coal miner, he went underground day after day to provide for his family without complaint. That kind of work shapes a man. It builds grit, endurance, and a quiet courage. Rich is the kind of person you can call in the middle of a disaster, and he will show up without hesitation. He is loyal without seeking credit, grounded in love, and humble to his core. His life has spoken volumes, often without a word.

And then there is Mitch. My husband. My partner. One of the finest fathers I have ever known. He didn’t just love me. He loved my children fully, intentionally, and without hesitation. He helped blend a family not by taking charge, but by quietly creating space for each of us to belong. His presence has shaped our home in ways too deep to measure. He has been a powerful influence on our older children, offering steady guidance, quiet wisdom, and a kind of consistent love that helped ground them as they grew into young men. He prays over our home, protects our peace, and shows up every day with quiet strength. I watch the way our children look at him, and I know they see what I see: steadfast love lived out daily.

Spencer is already learning what it means to love like a father, not because he had to, but because he chose to. He stepped into the life of a little boy and began planting seeds of stability, protection, and trust. Loving a child who isn’t biologically yours takes a special kind of courage. It requires gentleness paired with strength, and patience rooted in love. Spencer has both. I’ve watched him learn how to lead with compassion, how to discipline with care, and how to be present even on the hard days. He shows up with a full heart. He’s there for the bedtime routines, the early mornings, the scraped knees, and the quiet teaching moments. And he’s learning as he goes, open, willing, and full of heart. I’m proud of the man he is becoming, and even more proud of the kind of father he is growing to be. That little boy in his care is growing up wrapped in a love that is real, chosen, and safe.

Although Gavin, my firstborn, doesn’t have children yet, I already know the kind of father he will be. He carries a careful kind of love. It is the kind that thinks before it speaks, that listens closely, and responds with intention. Gavin doesn’t rush through relationships. He moves with gentleness and steady purpose, always aware of how his presence affects those around him. I see it in how he honors his wife, how he prepares their home, and how he speaks about the future with both awe and quiet responsibility. He is already a protector, a provider, and a safe place. He will be the kind of father who reads bedtime stories with voices, who makes pancakes on Saturdays, and who answers tough questions with honesty and grace. When his time comes, his child will never have to wonder if they are loved. That love will be built into everything he does.

Michael, my son-in-law, is newly married, and for now, children are not on the horizon. But like Gavin, I already see in him the quiet strength and thoughtful love that fatherhood requires. He is steady and supportive, kind and attentive. He leads with humility, listens with care, and honors his wife in both word and action. There is a tenderness in him that doesn’t waver, a calm presence that puts people at ease. I have no doubt that when the time comes, Michael will be an amazing father; one who leads with love, builds with intention, and creates a home full of warmth, respect, and laughter.

I am also thankful for Joe, Gavin and Spencer’s biological father. In the early years of their lives, we both made mistakes, but we also learned. While there are many things I might choose to do differently, the decisions that led me to motherhood are not among them. Those two boys have been the greatest gifts of my life, and for that, I will always be grateful. Joe has leaned into fatherhood in a way that makes me proud. He is making up for lost time with our boys, while loving his other children and his grandchildren with all his heart. That matters, and it deserves to be seen.

This Father’s Day, I’m reflecting on all the ways fatherhood has been lived out before me and is now unfolding around me. Through birth and bond, through sacrifice and quiet strength, through bloodlines and chosen love, these men have built something lasting. Not a monument or a name in lights, but a legacy woven into bedtime prayers, steady hands on small backs, hard-won wisdom, and unconditional love.

They’ve shown that fatherhood is more than biology. It is presence. It is consistency. It is the echo of laughter down a hallway, the sound of a wrench turning under a truck, the hug at the door before a long shift, and the listening ear when the world feels too loud. It is correction delivered with care, and love offered without requirement.

These men have taught with their lives. They’ve shaped our family with grace, steadiness, and grit. And in their own unique ways, they’ve loved fiercely, stood faithfully, and planted seeds of goodness that will outlive them.

So today, I pause with a full heart. Because I see it all now, the legacy they are writing in the lives of our children, and in mine. It is quiet. It is strong. And it is sacred.

And I am so very thankful.