📜 Letters to the Departed: A Practice for Connection and Closure

Geri Watson
Sep 26
5 min read

When someone we love dies, the conversation doesn’t end—it just changes form. We still think of things we wish we’d said. We still hear their voice in our heads. We still feel the pull to reach out.

That’s where letter writing comes in.

Writing letters to those we’ve lost is a powerful way to stay connected, express unresolved emotions, and begin to find closure. It’s not about pretending they’re still here—it’s about honoring the relationship, the memories, and the parts of us that still ache.

💌 Why Write Letters to the Departed?

Grief often leaves us with unfinished business. Maybe you didn’t get to say goodbye. Maybe there were things left unsaid—regrets, gratitude, apologies, love. A letter gives you space to say them.

Here’s what this practice can offer:

Emotional release: Putting feelings into words can lighten the emotional load.
Connection: It helps maintain a sense of closeness, even in absence.
Clarity: Writing can untangle complicated emotions and bring insight.
Healing: It’s a way to honor your grief and your love, without judgment.

✍️ How to Begin

There’s no right or wrong way to write a letter to someone who’s passed. You can write it in a journal, on your phone, in a Word doc, or even speak it aloud. What matters is intention.

Here are a few prompts to help you start:

“I’ve been thinking about you lately, and I wanted to tell you…”
“There’s something I never got to say…”
“I miss you most when…”
“I’m angry that you left, and here’s why…”
“Thank you for…”

You can write one letter or many. You can write on anniversaries, birthdays, or random Tuesday afternoons. Let it be a ritual, a release, a conversation.

📝 Sample Letters

Here are two sample letters that show how varied this practice can be—one tender, one conflicted, both honest.

🌹 A Letter of Love and Longing

Dear Mom,

I still reach for the phone to call you, almost instinctively, as if the distance between us is merely a phone line away. It’s in those moments that I can almost hear your voice echoing back to me, filled with warmth and understanding. I still hear your laugh, that contagious sound that would light up any room, especially when I would say something ridiculous or silly, trying to make you smile. It comforts me to remember how you would throw your head back and laugh wholeheartedly, a sound that brought joy not only to me but to everyone around us. I miss your advice, the way you always seemed to know exactly what to say to guide me through life’s challenges. Your wisdom was like a beacon, illuminating my path when I felt lost or unsure. Your warmth was a safe haven, a reminder that no matter what happened in the world outside, I could always find solace in your embrace. You had a unique ability to make everything feel okay, to turn my worries into whispers and my fears into fleeting thoughts. I often find myself reflecting on my life now, and I wish you could see me. I think you’d be proud of the person I am becoming, navigating through the ups and downs with resilience and grace. I hope you’d be proud, not just of my accomplishments, but of the values you instilled in me—the kindness, the compassion, the strength to face adversity. Your influence is woven into the fabric of my being, guiding me in ways I sometimes don’t even realize. Thank you for loving me the way you did, unconditionally and wholeheartedly. Your love was a gift that I carry with me every day, a treasure that enriches my life in countless ways. It inspires me to love others with the same depth and sincerity that you showed me. I carry you with me in my heart, in my thoughts, and in the way I approach life. Your spirit is a constant presence, reminding me to cherish every moment and to embrace the beauty in the world around me.

Love always, Emily

🔥 A Letter of Anger and Unfinished Business

Dear Jake,

I find myself still grappling with the overwhelming emotions that have consumed me since you left. It’s hard to articulate just how mad I truly am. You made the decision to walk away without any warning or explanation, and now I am left here, trying to piece together the fragments of what once was. The abruptness of your departure has left a void that I can hardly begin to fill. I often reflect on our conversations, our laughter, and the moments we shared. It pains me to think that we didn’t have the opportunity for one last dialogue, one final chance to express our thoughts and feelings openly. I long to ask you the questions that swirl in my mind—questions that haunt me daily. Why did you choose to leave? What led you to make that decision without giving us a chance to talk it through? I wish I could convey to you just how deeply your absence has affected me, how much it hurt to realize that someone I cared for could just disappear without a trace. Yet, amidst all this turmoil, I find myself missing you, and that realization fills me with an inexplicable frustration. It feels so contradictory to miss someone who has caused me so much pain. I hate that I miss you, and I hate that I still think about the good times we had, the dreams we shared, and the future we envisioned together. It’s as if a part of me is still tethered to you, even though you’ve chosen to sever those ties. Perhaps this letter serves a dual purpose. Maybe it is a step toward finding some semblance of forgiveness—both for you and for myself. I know that holding onto anger and resentment will only weigh me down further. But then again, maybe this is just me screaming into the void, hoping that somehow my words will reach you, that you might hear my pain and understand the depth of my feelings. Regardless of the outcome, I needed to express this. I needed to put pen to paper and let my heart spill out, to acknowledge the complexity of my emotions and the turmoil that your absence has caused. This letter is a testament to my struggle, a cathartic release of everything that has been bottled up inside me since the moment you walked away. I hope that one day we can find clarity and perhaps even closure. Until then, I will continue to navigate this sea of emotions, searching for a way to heal. —M