On the eve of what will be six full years without my Dad, I felt compelled to write. I found myself trying to remember his voice, his laugh, and how his hugs felt. But as time passes by, so does that clarity. You spend your whole life seeing somebody, hearing their voice, feeling their hugs and suddenly they are gone. Gone forever. No matter how much you pray to wake up from the nightmare that you’re in, or how hard you cry and plead, you are unable to bring them back. The loss of a parent at 20 years old is something I had never imagined or prepared for, nor was taking on the role of being my Father’s care giver. As I sit here reflecting on the past 6 years spent without him here, there are things I wish I could go back and tell myself. So, if my sharing this can ease just one person’s pain or make just one person feel a little less alone in their grief, I thought I should.
- It’s okay to feel a sense of “relief” after they pass because you no longer want to see them in any pain. Especially if you are a caregiver for your parent. This does not mean you are relieved that they are gone, it simply means you can no longer stand to see them in so much pain.
- You will feel guilty about the times you weren’t perfect. You will also feel guilty about viewing them as anything other than perfect, now that they aren’t here anymore. Be gentle with yourself, and search for the beauty and lessons that lie within someone’s imperfections.
- You will replay any mean words you have ever said to them on repeat in your mind. You will obsess over all of the days you screened their calls or chose to hangout with your friends instead of them. Stop dwelling on this, they never did.
- No one told me about the hollow pit I would feel in my stomach every time weddings are mentioned, knowing that I won’t ever get to experience him walking me down the aisle or having our father daughter dance.
- No one told me I would have a constant fear of my Mom dying. Loss changes you. It changes how you view the world and how you think and feel about the people that you love. Unfortunately, it creates a fear of more loss, and that takes time and work to overcome.
- No one told me that I would start to forget parts of him that felt unforgettable. Nor did they prepare me for the overwhelming feeling of pain and guilt that comes along with those memories fading. That is what photos and phone calls to the people in your life who knew them are for.
- It’s okay to not be okay. It is okay to be angry. You will be. Not everything in life needs to have a positive spin. Some things in life aren’t fair. Losing your father before he had a chance to walk you down the aisle or meet your children sucks. Knowing that there are so many future life events he will not be there for (big and small) is a very hard pill to swallow.
- Grief isn’t linear. It comes in waves, and in many different shades. Ride those waves, because the moments of insurmountable sadness won’t last forever.
- You will forever be changed. But that’s okay. In fact it’s better than okay. Loss makes us stronger, kinder, more gentle, more present and more appreciative of life and the relationships we have.
- Time will start to mend the hole in your heart & the pit in your stomach. The raw and excruciating pain that happens in the first weeks, months and years after their diagnosis and death feels all-consuming. But it is true when people say that time heals. The pain will dull and you will learn to cope. You will learn to smile and laugh again, I promise. And, with time, you will find comfort in knowing that they would have wanted it that way.








