6 Life Lessons Learned in the 6 Months Since My Dad Died
The Dead Parent Club (or DPC as I like to call it): a club no one joins by choice, but membership is always on the rise. Membership dues are paid in the form of a previously unexperienced emotional hardship, and without a collections deadline, it can be a lifetime before being fully paid off. DPC is an exclusive club nonetheless, appreciated only by and amongst its members.
It’s been 6 months since my dad died, and I’m still unsure as to what to make of it all. One thing I know for certain is that I will spend every day for the rest of my life missing my father, and forever is an awfully long time to miss someone.
Though still on my own path to recovering from this devastation, I wanted to share a few things I’ve learned so far along the way. Here are 6 life lessons I’ve learned in the 6 months since my father’s death:
1. It is better to have loved my father and lost him, than never to have experienced his love at all.
I know this quote is typically used in the romantic sense, but I’ve finally found greater meaning when applying it to the relationship I had with my late father. My dad loved my sister and I so much. Throughout my entire life I have never been at a loss for parental love; something I did not know was so rare until I lost my father. The truth is, I could have and by all textbook and medical definitions, should have lost my father years ago. A 3 time cancer survivor, he defied the odds to beat his illness each time so he could see my sister and I grow up. On separate visits, doctors told my dad that he only had “3-5 years left to live”...three different times. THREE TIMES! I cannot imagine the strength with which he had to hear those words, and the continuous strength he held for the battle, only for his cancer to creep back twice more. Despite not being able to imagine his journey, I am ultimately not surprised. My dad would have done anything for my sister and I, beating chronic cancer 3 times is no exception! More than anything I am proud of my dad, and while his death was sudden and unexpected, he died cancer free, and that is a miracle!
DURING A CONVERSATION MONTHS BEFORE HIS SUDDEN DEATH, MY DAD STATED, “YOU DON’T NEED ME ANYMORE, YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE DOING,” I QUIPPED, “I WILL ALWAYS NEED YOU!”
I am so grateful for the time we had together because I was lucky enough to experience a love I could have lost years prior, and not everyone is granted that same opportunity.
2. I will never be the same type of happy again.
This doesn’t mean that I will never be happy again, but I will never be the same type of happy with him gone. Holidays and birthdays will always draw a deep hurting pang brought about by his absence. My sister and I no longer have his home to visit, a realization that becomes more devastating during these type of events. We are fortunate enough to have a few amazing people in our lives who will offer us their own homes during these tough times, but there’s a certain level of hurt in knowing that this year we will not be pulling up in a cab to be greeted by our over-excited dad jumping up and down on the doorstep in joy of our arrival for an extended holiday stay.
My wedding will also not be the same. Currently single, I struggle to come to terms with the fact that my father will never get to meet my husband…or my children. It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about who will be walking me down the aisle. I used to long for a big dream wedding, but now I could care less. A once happy daydream is now a thought I shudder away. It's healing to think that in some way, my dad is watching over me, and that he will send me someone with his seal of approval, but it also hurts my heart to know that I will never really know, and have no way of ever finding out.
Every joy I experience will bring about the emptiness of his loss, and I don't know if it will ever be filled. With every big life achievement, small instance, funny occurrence, random happenstance, there won’t be a second I won’t want to give him a call and share it with him. Happiness is a choice, so I will choose it, and seek it, but I will never be as happy as if he were here sharing in my joy with me; that’s just a fact.
3. It's easy to choose external vices over addressing internal issues.
Keeping busy is a nice distraction from thinking of my father’s loss. However, when things become harder to push away with healthy distractions, it becomes more apparent how prevalent unhealthy alternatives are. With loss, suddenly it becomes more appealing to smoke a cigarette, or reach for a drink when you normally wouldn’t…or have one too many at that! During this grieving process I feel like I’ve been sitting still, virtually grabbing whatever comes my way to distract me from feeling what I need to feel. I don’t want to cry or even to think about things at times because my thoughts alone are enough to drive me mad. Sometimes I just want to do whatever it takes to get out of my own head.
I am fortunate enough to have a strong head on my shoulders and tend to make sound choices more often than not. However, everyday I wake up with a burden to bear, and I’m realizing how hard life becomes when you wake up with something you have to overcome each and every day. Managing my grief is the first item on my to-do list each day, and I have to force myself to operate as usual during this grieving period. But most people don’t understand that I can’t easily operate in the same capacity or at the same pace that I did before I lost my father. Most don’t get that there will never be enough time for me to get over this; never again will I be the person I once was! Which brings me to my next point…
4. There is no time expiration on grief.
Contrary to what your relatives, friends, coworkers, etc. think, there will never be a time when you are not grieving the loss of your parent. It’s the first thing you’ll think about when you wake up, and the last thing you'll think about before bed. You will also think about it for most of your day. What I’ve learned is that after 3 months, no one really seems to care about your loss anymore. They’re over it, so why shouldn't you be as well? “But it’s been 3 months…” some may say. These statements become more common as time continues on, and people seem ready to remind you just how long it’s been since your loss, as if you weren't already aware and tracking each day since the worst one of your life.
The truth is, it could be 30 years and it just won’t be the same. Unless you’ve lost a parent, you do not know how permanent this all feels, and it’s an experience I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
5. The only way to get through it, is to go through it.
This has been my hardest lesson learned thus far. A goal-oriented person, I’ve always been able to talk myself through difficult periods with the notion of a temporary timeframe; i.e. study hard in college but in 4 years you're out of there! But grief brings about a lot of feelings, feelings you may not understand and ones you cannot control, no matter how desperately you want to. Admittedly, I try my hardest to suppress my feelings at times, because I am scared that if I start to cry, I will not be able to stop. Stopping to grieve can be an impossible task in a fast-paced society that won’t wait for you and keeps running ahead, even if you need to break for a moment to catch your breath.
Anxiety. My anxiety has reached its peak with my dad’s death and has become so frustratingly debilitating; another item on my everyday to-do list I must constantly battle. Depression, add that to the list as well! Like I mentioned, on top of the other items on one’s everyday agenda, grief, anxiety, and depression are things I must conquer each and every single day. Sometimes it’s hard for me to get out of bed in the morning, and sometimes I can’t tell you why I did it, or why I still do it, but I do. I know that in order to get better and to get through this difficult time in my life, I have to actually go through with living it. I can’t fast-forward, or speed my way through each day or through periods of my life. Instead, I have to wake up every day and be present, not just exist. It sounds easy, but in reality, it is so damn hard. People are quick to say that things will only get better and easier with time, and man, I hope it’s true! For now, I choose to believe that things will be better for me in time, but experiencing this pain right now gives new light to the expression “you never know what someone else is going through.”
6. Our friends and living loved ones have a job to remember those we’ve lost.
Regardless of how long it’s been since my dad passed, I expect those closest to me to understand that it’s a burden for me to keep his memory alive. I ask that every Father’s Day someone shoot me a text or give me a call to share a funny story about my dad, or just to ask if I’m all right. I’m fortunate enough to have the same best friends that I've had since middle school, all of whom knew my father very well from our years growing up together. Occasionally, I need these friends to share their stories of my dad, no matter how unrelated, small, or seemingly stupid they may be.
Friends and family members of those who have lost a parent: please remember them for us! Remember the key dates and the things our lost ones once loved because its such a great burden to be the only person who does.
While on the phone with a close friend the other day, she brought up how my dad made the worst real estate investments - an absolutely true fact! I chuckled at the time, because I know my dad would have done the same, but it also warmed my heart to feel the joy of his memory, without forcing it myself.
I do not have all the answers, and by no means is this a piece of advice coming from a place of recovery. I share this with you hoping it may provide slight solace to an individual experience or bring about more compassion when interacting with those grieving.
What I do know, is that the ones we lost miss us just as much as we miss them! Wherever they may be, they are also hurting without us but they are staying strong, so we must continue to stay strong as well!