This week in real life
Father's Day hits different when you lost yours young.
I was 18 when my dad died. I'm 43 now. That's 25 Father's Days of carrying both things at once — grief for the one I lost, and gratitude for the four I get to show up for every single day.
This year felt different. Last weekend my oldest graduated from high school. So Father's Day came right on top of that — this wave of pride and forward motion — while underneath it the quiet ache of wishing my dad could have seen it. Wishing he could have been in those bleachers. Wishing I could have called him after.
It was quiet and low key at our house. Just family. Which was exactly right. Some years that's what Father's Day needs to be — not a big production, just the people who matter, together, in the same room.
"Grief and gratitude at the same time. That's what Father's Day is when you lost your dad young. You don't stop missing him. You just learn to hold both things at once. The missing and the thankfulness. Side by side, every year."
So this week the money section comes second. Because some things are more important than the budget.
This week's money move
The financial lesson my dad's death taught me at 18 — and what I'm doing differently for my four kids
When my dad died I was 18 years old. I didn't know what life insurance was. I didn't know what an estate was. I didn't know what happened to a family's finances when the person holding everything together suddenly wasn't there anymore.
I learned fast. And what I learned shaped every financial decision I've made as a dad for the last 25 years.
Here's what losing a parent young teaches you about money that nobody else really understands:
Life insurance isn't about death — it's about not leaving your family to figure it out alone. When my dad died there was no plan. My family had to figure everything out in the middle of grief. That experience is why I have a term life policy that covers 10x my income. Not because I'm planning to die — because I'm planning for my kids to be okay if I do.
Someone needs to know where everything. Bank accounts. Insurance policies. Passwords. The mortgage documents. Your spouse or partner needs to be able to run the financial life of your family without you if they have to. Most families have one person who knows everything and one person who knows nothing. That gap is a risk.
A will isn't morbid — it's a gift. Dying without a will means the state decides what happens to your assets and potentially your kids. A basic will costs $300-500 and takes one afternoon with an estate attorney. Most dads put it off for years. Don't be that dad.
Disability insurance matters more than most dads realize. You are statistically far more likely to become disabled than to die during your working years. If you can't work for six months does your family survive financially? Most can't. Short-term disability through your employer plus a long-term disability policy closes that gap.
The conversation is the most important thing. Tell your spouse where everything is. Walk them through the accounts. Show them the insurance policies. Have the conversation you keep putting off. It's uncomfortable for about 20 minutes and then it's done and your family is safer for it.
"The best financial gift you can give your kids has nothing to do with money. It's making sure that if something happens to you tomorrow, they don't have to figure everything out alone in the middle of losing you."
This week's action — the 30 minute family financial safety audit: Sit down with your spouse this week and answer these five questions together. Where is the life insurance policy? What accounts exist and where are they? Where is the will — and do you have one? What happens financially if you can't work for six months? Does your spouse know enough to run the family finances without you? If any answer is "I don't know" — that's the one to fix first.
Note: This is financial education not personalized advice. For decisions specific to your family's situation consult an estate attorney or financial advisor.
Dad life
What I know now that I wish I could tell my dad
I've been a dad for 18 years. The same number of years I had with mine.
That math hit me differently this Father's Day than it ever has before. My oldest is now the age I was when I lost him. Which means I've officially been parenting as long as I was parented. That's a strange and heavy thing to sit with.
I don't know what kind of dad my dad would have been to adult me. I never got to find out. But I know what I want to be to mine — present, honest, occasionally embarrassing, and financially responsible enough that if something happened to me tomorrow, they wouldn't have to carry that weight on top of everything else.
That's the whole game. Show up. Plan ahead. Leave things better than you found them.
Happy belated Father's Day to every dad reading this — especially the ones holding both grief and gratitude at the same time today. You're not alone in that.
Know a dad who needed to read this today?
Forward this to one person. Sometimes the right words at the right time are worth more than any financial tip.
Coming next week
What's in issue #008
The family vacation budget breakdown — what a real family vacation actually costs in 2025, the hidden expenses nobody plans for, and the one booking mistake most families make that costs them $200-400 every single time.