Are You Part of the Dead Dad Club? Here’s How to Navigate Father’s Day

Father’s Day has a way of sneaking up on anyone whose dad is no longer on the earthly plane. If you’ve ever walked past the Father’s Day display at CVS and felt that familiar punch to the gut, or gone quiet when coworkers start discussing weekend BBQ plans with their dads, welcome to the Dead Dad Club. But you’re not alone, and you don’t have to spend 24 hours in your feels if you don’t want to.

On a recent episode of Coming in Hot, Caroline Baudino opens with the gut punch Dead Dad Club members know all too well: “It is Father’s Day coming up, and I am feeling all the feels, you guys. My dad passed away two years ago.”

Grief: receiving signs from loved ones

Baudino doesn’t sugar-coat the messy bits. “I wish I said I loved you more,” she admits, a line that lands like a brick for anyone who’s still replaying their last conversation with dad. Her grief isn’t just tears, though. It’s mystical signs and unexpected joy. “I see little white butterflies that appear every once in a while outside when I’m doing my coffee talks,” Baudino recalls. For her, those butterflies are dad’s cosmic high-five.

Baudino also reminds us why unresolved baggage hurts worse than a Hallmark commercial marathon: “This is your gentle reminder that Father’s Day is around the corner. Don’t ever miss a celebration. Have the hard conversations.” Even if the conversation isn’t pleasant, say the awkward stuff now, before the universe replaces your opportunity with permanent silence.

But the episode isn’t totally full of tears. Baudino pivots to gratitude, urging listeners to “celebrate the people you love. Don’t ever waste a moment that you could celebrate someone you love.”

Actionable ways to survive—and even celebrate—Father’s Day without dad

Veteran Dead Dad Club members have a tried-and-true method of celebrating Father’s Day in their own way. But if you’re a new member and need a game plan that’s more on the positive side, consider these tried-and-true strategies:

• Adopt a signature sign. Baudino’s butterflies are her shorthand for “dad’s still watching.” Choose your token—cardinals, ‘80s power ballads, vintage watches—then go out and look for it on Father’s Day. It turns a grief trigger into a scavenger hunt.
• Run the highlight reel. Cue up the home videos, flip through Polaroids, or scroll that dusty Facebook album. Let yourself laugh at dad’s questionable mustache. Nostalgia hits different when you give it the floor for an evening instead of letting it ambush you at 3 in the morning.
• Cook (or order) his favorite guilty pleasure. Whether it was burnt Sicilian pizza or gas-station breakfast burritos, eat it shamelessly. Food is a memory you can taste.
• Gift the living men in your life. Baudino’s a pro at this; she gushes about hunting for golf polos and moon-phase watches for her father-in-law and husband. Keep the ritual alive by spoiling a significant other (even if he’s just a dog dad), mentor, or your BFF.
• Schedule a “dad download” date with mom (or whomever). Pour two iced coffees and swap stories—only the good ones if the drama’s still fresh. You’re bound to discover details you didn’t know you were missing and maybe even lay some ancient grudges to rest.
• Write him a letter—then do something with it. Burn it, frame it, tuck it in a book he loved. Baudino’s regret over unsent words proves the power of speaking them, even when the audience is on the other side.
• Volunteer or donate in his name. If dad built birdhouses, fund a local nature center. If he was a suit-and-tie mogul, hook a grad up with interview clothes. Legacy beats loneliness every time.
• Call the Club hotline (aka your friends who get it). Dead Dad Club membership comes with lifetime support. Text your friends, let the tears flow, FaceTime your family—you’ll all feel lighter.

Baudino ends her episode whispering to the sky, “Happy Father’s Day in Heaven. I love you, I forgive you, and I miss you.” Steal her script, tweak it, shout it, sing it—whatever feels right. The day is now about acknowledging the crater in your life, and the extraordinary love that lived there first.