Hey Dad,

I heard something neat on a podcast recently. Jim Collins said that he sought out interesting mentors because he never really had a Dad to look up to and mentor him. He said he found a lot of amazing people and it was kind of like he had a hundred dads, instead of just one. It made me think of you.

Because I’ve done something very similar. Losing you when I was 7 was hard. Incredibly hard. I hid from the pain for a few years, then I let it boil into anger, and eventually I let myself feel the pain so I could heal it. But none of that gave me a dad back. None of it sat me on your knee so you could tell me what it means to be a man. None of it gave me advice before my first date or encouraged me before my first job interview. I was still very much alone. Mom did her best but I was still missing a man to look up to. So kind of like Jim Collins, I sought out every mentor I could.

I read books on leadership, nutrition, mental fortitude, empathy, self-compassion, relationship advice, you name it. I read everything I could. Some of it was unconscious, just wanting to learn a new skill or improve an area of weakness. Some of it was deliberately learning something you should have taught me. But all of it was adding mentors to my list of substitute fathers. In a way I think I had a more diverse and thorough education than a lot of guys get. Instead of the best that one man can give, I sought out the best that many individuals put together over many lifetimes. I put a lot of effort into it, and learned things that you probably never even knew. It wasn’t the same as having a dad, but I did the best I could. I’m still not sure what you would have taught me if you would have been here, and I guess I’ll never find out. But I needed to learn about life somehow, and I tried my best and I think I did okay.

Something else happened though which I think is pretty neat. I started writing. At first it just helped me process my own emotions, and then I wanted to share the resources that had helped me so much along the way. I wanted to write posts online and connect with people who were struggling with the same things I was. That way I could show them the books I had read, and show them the mentors that had helped me. This worked out a lot better than I ever hoped. I have connected with a lot of people. I’m pretty good at writing. I have been able to spread those good books I found to a lot of people and they have benefitted from the same mentors that benefitted me. I’m not sure if they lost their dads too, but they all needed some help.

In a strange way it feels really good that I’ve been able to help out other people. It’s like I had to fight extra hard in this area because I didn’t have you, and I overcame it and also paid interest by helping other people get the same help that I needed. I really hope you feel like I turned out okay, Dad. It’s been a really hard uphill battle. There’s just so many things I needed to ask you over the years. So many times I was afraid I wasn’t doing the right thing. So many times that I needed to call you and talk to you. But you weren’t there. It wasn’t your fault, but I guess it just was extra painful because I often felt like it was my fault you’re gone. I blamed myself for you dying, even though I was a kid at the time and it didn’t have anything to do with me.

I’m trying to get over that, and Mom is helping a lot. She knew you better than anyone and honestly you did a great job picking a wife. She has taken such good care of my sister and I. She always puts everyone else first and doesn’t take any time for herself. I often wish she would take it a little easier because she does work so incredibly hard. But she did right by us every chance she could. She fought so hard for your kids, and I feel like I should thank you for picking her. She did absolutely the best she could.

And something she told me today is that you would be really proud of me. I don’t know why that’s so hard for me to grasp but hearing her say that did help. She reminded me that you came from nothing. That you had such a hard time growing up poor and how emotionally distant your parents could be. How you got beat at school and didn’t have many good friends you could rely on. You weren’t perfect by any means, but I can see now that you had an incredibly hard path getting to where you were. So much pain, so alone. I honestly think you had even less support and guidance than I did. Your dad was incredibly quiet and your brothers were not emotionally available. I think you had a lot of coping mechanisms because that’s all you knew. The books that taught me so much weren’t even written when you were growing up.

And Mom told me that all you wanted was for your kids to have a good life. For them to get to travel and get educated and have good jobs. You were a great dad in that you wanted the best for your kids. And when I watch the old family videos I saw something else too. I saw a dad that was happy to play with his kids and have fun with them and tease them. A dad who worked really hard to give them a good life and who loved them so so so so much. A dad who loved his kids unconditionally and just wanted them to be happy.

And that was a video of my dad loving me. That was how he felt about me then and how he would feel now if he could see me. So I’m taking apart my old fears and insecurities. My workaholism driven by wanting you to be proud of me. My self hatred because I don’t think I’m good enough for anyone to be proud of. My feelings of inadequacy because I’m not perfect and I think you or other people would reject me because I’m not perfect. All of those old scripts have to go.

Because I saw how much my dad loved me. I saw how unconditionally he cared about me. How open his arms were and how loving his voice was when he talked to me. That was not the voice of a father who would reject his son because me made a few mistakes. That was not the embrace of a father who criticized his boy for doing his best and working as hard as he could. You loved me more than that. And you would still love me like that if you were here today.

So I’m going to try to be a little easier on myself. I think you’d want me to show myself compassion. I think you’d tell me “Cheer up, partner. You got a great job and you did great in school and you have great friends. You take good care of your family and you’re smart and you don’t have anything to worry about. Enjoy your time and don’t work yourself so hard all the time. You don’t know how many years you have left, I didn’t know how many I had and if I could go back I’d just spend more time with you and Megan and your Mom. That’s all I would want if I could go back for a day. So stop tearing yourself up so much. Stop making yourself miserable trying to be good enough for me to love you. You did it. You’re there. I love you more than you could ever know and I just want my son to enjoy his life and smile a little more often. You are the best son I could ever ask for and I want you to have the best life in the world. I love you and I’m proud of you and I will always be proud of you. You have turned yourself into a good man and not a day goes by that I wouldn’t hug you and tell you I love you if I could. Now go and enjoy your life, son, you still have time and no matter what I’ll always love you. Just enjoy the time you have and I’ll see you when you get here.”

I really think that you’d be happy with where I am today. It can be really hard some days to not hear your voice, to not be able to ask you questions. But Mom says you’d be really proud and I’ve given it my best. So I’m going to try and enjoy life more now. Not be so hard on myself. I think you’d tell me to smile more and loosen up a bit, so that’s the advice I’m going to take now. I’m always just trying to be the son you’d be proud of Dad, and I think this is the most important lesson you could teach me. I’ve had a lot of good mentors in your absence, but this is an important lesson and I’m glad I could learn it from you. 

I love you so much, Dad. Thanks for helping me out every time I write you a letter. These help me more than you could ever realize. I miss you and appreciate all your help. 

Love you lots,

Matthew