“Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” — Proverbs 22:6

On this Father’s Day, I’ve been reflecting on the impact my father had on my life.

When we’re young, we think our parents are simply raising us. We don’t realize they are also shaping the lens through which we’ll see the world. Their values become our values. Their priorities become our priorities. Their example becomes part of our story.

My father was the Director of Research for the Board of Education. Research wasn’t just his profession. It was his passion. He believed educational decisions should be guided by evidence, data, and a commitment to helping students succeed.

At the time, I didn’t fully understand what that meant.

I was simply his daughter.

But children absorb more than we realize.

I watched him work. I listened to his conversations. I saw the importance he placed on learning, curiosity, and finding answers. Those lessons quietly took root long before I ever stepped into a classroom as an educator.

Years later, after becoming a teacher, special educator, and eventually an academic therapist, I found myself asking many of the same questions my father asked.

What does the research say?

What actually works?

How can we help students learn more effectively?

The answers led me toward research-based instruction. Whether I was teaching Algebra I, supporting students with emotional disabilities, training at Lindamood-Bell, or working with neurodivergent students today, I wanted my practice grounded in evidence rather than guesswork.

Looking back, I realize I wasn’t simply building a career.

I was carrying forward a legacy.

I didn’t fully appreciate that connection until after my father passed away.

Grief has a way of changing your perspective.

When someone you love dies, you mourn their presence. You miss their voice, their wisdom, and the conversations you’ll never have. But over time, you begin to recognize the ways they continue to live on through the values they instilled in you.

One of the songs that comes to mind is Will Smith’s “Just the Two of Us.” The song is a father’s reflection on the hopes and dreams he has for his child. Beneath the catchy beat is a simple truth: parents invest in their children long before they see the results.

They plant seeds.

Years later, those seeds become character, purpose, and calling.

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate how much of my life was shaped by seeds my parents planted decades ago. My father’s commitment to research. My mother’s dedication to education. Their belief is that learning has the power to change lives.

Those lessons became part of who I am.

Life hasn’t unfolded exactly as I expected.

I’ve experienced loss. I’ve navigated health challenges. I’ve reinvented my career more than once. I’ve had seasons where I questioned what came next.

Yet through every transition, the foundation my parents gave me remained steady.

When I left the classroom and began working more intensively with students who learn differently, I wasn’t abandoning my past. I was building on it. Every time I help a struggling student understand a concept. Every time I recommend a research-based intervention. Every time I encourage a parent who feels overwhelmed.

I see traces of my father’s influence.

The older I get, the more I understand that legacy isn’t about titles or accomplishments.

It’s about impact.

It’s about the values we pass on.

It’s about the lives we touch.

Scripture reminds us that a good tree produces good fruit. When I reflect on my father’s life, I see fruit that continues to grow long after his passing. His commitment to learning shaped my career. His curiosity shaped my thinking. His example shaped my purpose.

The spiritual side of midlife isn’t simply learning how to start over.

It’s learning how to recognize the gifts we’ve carried with us all along.

Some of those gifts come directly from God.

Others arrive through the people He places in our lives.

My father taught me to value evidence, learning, and excellence.

My faith taught me to trust God’s direction.

Together, those lessons have guided me through every chapter of my journey.

And for that, I remain grateful.

As you reflect on your own life, whose influence are you carrying forward? What seeds did they plant that are still bearing fruit today?

Copyright © 2026 by Edna Brown. All Rights Reserved.