What to Write in a Letter to Your Dad

For the Things You Meant to Say

There are some people we talk to all the time without ever quite saying the things that matter most.

Dad may know what you had for dinner last night. He may know the car is making that noise again. He may know what the grandchildren are doing and whether you're coming over on Sunday.

But does he know which childhood memory of him you still carry?

Does he know something he taught you that you use to this day?

Does he know what you see in him now that you're older?

A letter gives us a different kind of conversation. It gives us time to think about what we want to say—and gives the person receiving it something they can return to later.

If you'd like to write to your dad but aren't quite sure where to begin, here are ten ideas.

1. Tell him about a childhood memory you still remember.

It doesn't have to be an important occasion.

Maybe it was riding beside him in the truck, holding the flashlight while he fixed something, fishing on a Saturday morning, or hearing him laugh at the same joke for the hundredth time.

Tell him what you remember.

He may be surprised that you remember it at all.

2. Thank him for something you understand differently now.

There are things our parents do that we don't fully appreciate until we're older.

Perhaps he worked long hours. Fixed things after everyone else went to bed. Drove you somewhere when he was tired. Sat through countless practices, recitals, games, or school programs.

Tell him something you see differently now.

3. Tell him something he taught you.

Maybe he deliberately taught you how to change a tire, plant a garden, balance a checkbook, or bait a hook.

But perhaps the more important lessons were the ones he never announced.

Showing up.

Keeping your word.

Helping a neighbor.

Starting over when something doesn't work.

Tell him what stuck.

4. Ask him about the man he was before he was Dad.

It's easy to forget that our parents had whole lives before we arrived.

Ask him what he was like at twenty.

What did he want to do?

Who were his friends?

What was his first job?

What did he spend his first paycheck on?

His answers may become family stories worth keeping.

5. Tell him about something that reminds you of him.

A particular song.

The smell of sawdust.

A certain kind of candy.

An old car.

A baseball game on the radio.

A phrase you catch yourself saying because he always said it.

Sometimes the smallest associations say the most.

6. Tell him about a trait of his you recognize in yourself.

Perhaps you inherited his sense of humor, stubborn determination, curiosity, practicality, or habit of arriving everywhere twenty minutes early.

You might even admit to something you once swore you'd never do—and now find yourself doing exactly as he did.

He'll probably enjoy that one.

7. Ask him a question you've never thought to ask.

What was Grandpa really like?

What was the hardest job he ever had?

Where did he go on his first date?

What frightened him when he became a father?

What is something about his childhood he wishes you knew?

One good question can open the door to an entire story.

8. Tell him about a moment when you needed him—and he was there.

It may have been something dramatic.

More likely, it wasn't.

Maybe he answered the phone. Showed up with a toolbox. Sat beside you without trying to fix anything. Or quietly took care of something you couldn't manage at the time.

Tell him that you noticed.

9. Tell him what you admire about him now.

Our understanding of our parents changes as we grow older.

What do you appreciate about your dad today that you couldn't have understood when you were ten—or twenty?

Tell him.

Don't assume he already knows.

10. Tell him what you hope he'll always know.

This one doesn't need to be clever.

It might simply be:

I'm glad you're my dad.

I love you.

Thank you for always showing up.

You mattered more than I probably ever told you.

Sometimes the shortest part of the letter is the part someone keeps.

You Don't Need an Occasion

You don't have to wait for Father's Day, his birthday, or Christmas to write to your dad.

In fact, an ordinary Tuesday might be better.

There is something wonderful about opening the mailbox and finding an envelope that arrived for no particular reason other than:

I was thinking about you.

Write one memory.

Ask one question.

Say one thing you've meant to say.

That's enough.

Because someday, the ordinary conversations will be the ones we wish we could have one more time.

Some things are worth saying while we still can.

A Trace Worth Keeping.