Mother’s Day and Father’s Day are more than Hallmark holidays. They’re opportunities to pause and reflect on the quiet, steady love of our parents—many of whom are no longer with us.

My dad lived until the age of 91, and what stays with me most is his relentlessly positive outlook. No matter the circumstance, he could always find the silver lining. He had reason not to: his parents fled Ukraine in the early 1900s with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Like many immigrants, they arrived in America poor, but in their neighborhood, everyone was poor. Daddy left school after the eighth grade to help support the family and, over time, built a modest, meaningful life.

One of my favorite memories came when my twin sister and I were chatting with him about the lottery. He was in his mid-80s, and we asked if he ever played. He shook his head and said, “No, I don’t.” We expected him to add something practical, like, “Because it’s a waste of money.” Instead, he said, “What would I do if I won? I already have everything I want.”

That one sentence has stayed with me for years. In a world where we’re always reaching for more—more success, more recognition, more stuff—my dad reminded me of the quiet power of contentment. There’s nothing wrong with ambition, but he taught me to ground it in gratitude. To take stock of what I already have. And to see my life, as he saw his, through a grateful, generous lens.