When my parents split up when I was six, I was devastated. My dad was my best friend. Everything we did together was fun — it was just about me and him. So when my parents separated, I was heartbroken that I wouldn’t be living with him anymore.
Eventually, as a teenager, I went to live with my dad. He could be tough, but he was always fair. He taught me how to set goals and go after the things I wanted. He believed in me long before I believed in myself.
Even with all that support, I was nervous to talk to him about moving to Boston from New Hampshire. I thought he might object. Instead, he looked at me and said, “Go fly.” He knew how much I loved the city — I’d been driving down multiple times a week to hang out with my cousins. His support meant everything.
Later on, I landed an office job in Boston. At first, I loved it. But after a company acquisition and a move to the suburbs, it lost its spark. I told him how draining it was to drive through the city — the place I loved — just to get to a job I didn’t love anymore.
His reply?
“You’re driving right through your dream every day.”
That one sentence planted the seed for what came next.
So when I told him I wanted to start Top Shelf Cookies, he got really excited. He gave me pep talks, and when I needed them, some tough-love kick-in-the-butt talks too. He even drove down to my first event just to see it for himself — even though he had a tight schedule, he wanted to be there.
And when it came time to open the shop during COVID, he was the one constantly reminding me not to give up on my dream. He helped me — emotionally and practically.
On the day we opened, he drove down from New Hampshire. He sat quietly and watched as customers came and went, as neighbors brought us coffee and pizza. He didn’t say a word, and honestly? I was stressed. I spent the rest of the day wondering if he thought I was making a huge mistake.
Then that night, my phone dinged.
A rare text from my dad:
“I was just watching. I think that neighborhood will take good care of you.”
Another ding:
“I also know you’ll take good care of it.”
I think about that text all the time when I make decisions. I love Adams Village so much. That little message reminded me I wasn’t doing this alone — I had someone who believed in me, and in the community I chose to plant roots in.
Happy Father’s Day to my dad — and to all the dads out there.
Thank you for cheering us on, even when you're the quiet type.
Don’t Crumble,
Heather