Are you happy

My dad asks us the same question on almost every phone call and every face-to-face visit:

“Are you happy?”

He asks it so often that sometimes we ask him first, before he gets the chance.

“Are you happy, Dad?”

It has become one of those family things — something we laugh about, something we expect, something that feels so completely him. But the older I get, the more I realize that question is not small. It is not casual. It is not just something he says to fill the silence.

It is his way of checking on our hearts.

There is a widely shared anecdote often attributed to John Lennon, though it is not verifiably from him. It tells the story of a little boy being asked what he wanted to be when he grew up. He wrote down, “happy.” The teacher told him he didn’t understand the assignment. He said the teacher didn’t understand life.

Whether the quote truly belongs to John Lennon or not, the message has always stayed with people for a reason. Because deep down, most of us are chasing something — success, money, stability, approval, achievement — but what we really want is peace. We want love. We want meaning. We want to be happy.

I remember a dinner conversation where he said something that has stayed with me. He said he had heard that during your children’s childhood is one of the best times to create wealth. But then he said something like, “You never get those years back. I would choose my kids’ childhood over wealth every time.”

And he did.

He chose being present.

He chose showing up.

He chose memories, dinners, conversations, laughter, support, and being there for all the things that make a family feel like home.

That kind of love does not always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it looks like a dad asking, “Are you happy?” over and over again. Sometimes it looks like someone choosing time with their children over more money in the bank. Sometimes it looks like a man who understands that success means nothing if the people you love don’t know you are there for them.

Now my dad has become Pops — our hero in a new season of life. And the same lesson still stands: be present for your family. Be there for the ordinary days, not just the big ones. Be there for the phone calls, the dinners, the games, the hard conversations, the tears, the laughter, and the quiet moments that become memories later.

Because mental health matters. Happiness matters. Feeling seen matters. Knowing someone cares enough to ask, “Are you okay? Are you happy?” matters.

We live in a world that often tells us to work harder, build more, earn more, push more, and prove more. But my dad taught us something different. He taught us that wealth is not only measured in money. It is measured in relationships. It is measured in peace. It is measured in how your children feel when they think of you.

And when I think of my dad, I think of love.

I think of presence.

I think of a man who chose us.

So this is for my dad — from Dad to Pops, our hero.

Thank you for asking the question that matters most.

Thank you for reminding us that happiness is not silly, selfish, or small.

Thank you for teaching us that the real assignment in life is not just to become successful.

It is to become happy, whole, present, and loved.