Dear Eric >> “Jim” and I had a daughter, “Helena,” who was 12 years old when her father died of cancer. Jim and Helena were very close, and she knew that she would receive a letter from her father on every birthday until she turned 18.

When she graduated college, I surprised her with another letter. In it, Jim talked about his own college experience and said how proud he was of her. My daughter has quoted this letter many times and it is one reason she still has a sense of connection with her dad.

Helena is now in her early 40s. She does not know this, but there are two more letters. Jim asked me to give her one on her wedding day, the other upon the birth of a child.

I don’t think either event will happen — my daughter is most determinedly single.

I don’t know what to do with the letters. I can’t bear to destroy them. Yet, I worry if I give them to her, it will hurt her to find that her father imagined a different life for her than the one she has chosen.

A year ago, I had a health scare, and it made me concerned that, if I do nothing, my daughter may have to negotiate finding the letters in my absence as well. I don’t know what to do.

— Undelivered Letter

Dear Letter >> Your husband has given your daughter an immensely touching gift. I’d encourage you to give your daughter the letters, as soon as it feels right to you. When you do, explain your hope that they’ll be meaningful to her, nonetheless. But also put what you say into a letter, so that she has something to refer to if the last of your husband’s letters ever start to feel more complicated.

Tell her that these letters represent a desire to do something that is impossible for humans, but achievable for love: to reach out and touch the future. Your husband’s prognostication about weddings and children aren’t wish fulfillment so much as a reflection of his hope that your daughter is happy in life.

While the letters may contain hopes for a path she’s not taking, you can frame them as what they are: the continuing echo of his love based on the joy he felt marrying you and parenting her with you.

If you’re so inclined, you may want to write your own letters to her someday. Consider freeing them of life markers: “read this when you had a bad day,” “read this when you’ve done something impossible,” “read this whenever you want.”

Dear Eric >> “Happy Alone,” who wrote about wanting to leave social situations because he has very poor hearing, may truly be happier alone, but if he’d like to try to participate in social gatherings or at least a conversation, he might try an app like “Live Transcribe.”

My mother is very deaf (cochlear implant in one ear, hearing aid in the other) and uses this app constantly. It’s not perfect, and really not great in crowd situations, but it works well enough in one-on-one (-or two) conversations so that she understands what’s going on.

Frankly, it’s been a lifesaver for those of us who communicate with her regularly. And it helps her out at doctor’s appointments too, because it’s a written transcript.

I hope this helps “Happy Alone,” unless he’s truly more of an introvert.

— Reader

Dear Reader >> Thank you for this suggestion. Other readers also expressed how helpful transcription apps have been. Some also mentioned a function on Apple AirPods Pro2 models that can boost conversation in noisy places. “Happy Alone” should talk to his audiologist first about the latter option or other hearing treatments, like cochlear implants, should he want to explore that route.

Send questions to R. Eric Thomas at eric@askingeric.com