Dear Kids, Please Let Me Do This for You (Even If You Think It’s Ridiculous)

A Father's Day Letter from Dad.

You probably won’t remember this, but once in a store (yes, Walmart — the sacred land of fishing lures, 12-packs of socks, and suspiciously cheap rotisserie chickens), I held up a toolkit and offered it to you like it was the Holy Grail. You rolled your eyes and muttered something like, “When have I ever needed that?”

You weren’t wrong. You hadn’t needed it — not yet.

Because I was your toolkit.

For years, you’ve had someone checking your oil, changing the batteries, resetting the Wi-Fi, fixing that weird squeak your car made, unclogging what shouldn’t have been clogged, and generally being your on-call handyman. No payment required. Just love.

But one day, sooner than I like to admit, you'll move out and start life on your own. And I won’t be right down the hall to grab a wrench or talk you through how to shut off the water main. That toolkit? It’s not just about pliers and screwdrivers. It’s about sending you into the world with something tangible from me — a symbol that says, “You’ve got this… but just in case, here’s a backup.”

It may not seem like much, but that little box of tools carries years of late-night Lego assembly, furniture fixing, science fair emergency repairs, and "Dad, can you come fix this?" moments.

So when I give you something — a toolkit, a flashlight, a weird emergency blanket — please know it’s more than stuff. It’s me, doing what dads do: preparing, protecting, and letting go (even when it hurts).

And when the day comes that you fix something all on your own — however small — I hope you smile and think, “Yeah, Dad showed me how to handle this.”

Even if you never open that toolkit… just let me give it to you.

Because that’s how dads say, “I love you. You’re ready. But I’ll always be here if you need me.”

Love you always, Dad