One man gets a parade. The other showed up with a toolbox.

Hey Reader,

I’m late sending this out tonight because I was trying to hang a few new hooks on the wall.

What started as “Ed and I will just knock this out in ten minutes” turned into a lot of measuring, leveling, swearing, and eventually—calling my dad.

So my 77-year-old dad—Vietnam vet, still sharp, still stubborn, still better at measuring than I’ll ever be—left the coziness of his house, my mom, and his book, and came over and spent an hour helping me line everything up.

He didn’t actually help. He just kind of did it while I handed him the occasional tools and chatted.

He’ll be 78 in a few weeks. Just days after the president of our country turns 79. And while my dad won't ask for anything and will be satisfied with a family dinner and a homemade cake, the president has requested a full military parade for his birthday.

My dad? He’s still showing up to fix hooks on his daughter’s wall.

No podium. No salutes. Just a man quietly showing up, again and again.

And that’s the thing that stuck with me.
Because one of these men actually served.
And the other just wants the optics of service on his big day.
Wants to wrap himself in a flag that others—not him—fought for.

Meanwhile, the veterans I know—including my dad—are still out here fixing things. Quietly. Gently. Without a marching band.

This is the difference between service and spectacle.

Because real service doesn’t come with confetti.
And most of the people who’ve worn the uniform aren’t looking for fireworks.
They’re looking for community. For healing.
For someone who sees them beyond the role—but still understands what it cost them.

They want systems that support reintegration.
Trauma-informed care.
They want connection—not pageantry.

This week on Roar, I had a conversation with someone who’s building exactly that kind of space for women veterans.
Not with banners. Not with branding.
With presence. With truth. With other women who get it.

If you want to hear what it sounds like when care replaces ceremony, this episode is worth a listen.
🎧 [Listen here]

XO,
Danielle

P.S. If your idea of celebrating means heading to a “No Kings Day” protest in response to Trump’s birthday parade plans—and you need something appropriately angry to wear—we’ve got Roar merch. [Grab yours here.]

P.P.S. I talk to a lot of women doing a lot of cool things, but if you’re looking for something military-adjacent post-Memorial Day, head to my conversation with forensic expert Debbi Zinni. It’s a good one. [Listen here.]

P.P.P.S. Want to buy me a coffee? Or help me get my dad something better than a Home Depot gift card? You can do that [right here]. Caffeine and gratitude, fully accepted.

Writer. Podcast Host. Speaker.

I’m Danielle Davies—writer, speaker, and host of Roar. Dispatches is where I share what I’m thinking about, working on, or trying to make sense of.