How do you deal with grief? If you’re lucky, you’ve never had to learn. I’ve lost grandparents and other loved ones previously, and it was hard, but after a few months I was able to get back to (somewhat) normal. The thing is, I would have defined getting over those losses as “hard” before. Before. My life has been divided into “before” and “after.” I lost my dad very suddenly and unexpectedly 14.5 months ago, and I don’t feel that my grief has lessened at all since then. I still cry multiple times a day, and I find myself actively trying to stay busy to avoid thinking about him, because the pain is crushing when I do. It got me thinking recently that I’m probably not grieving in a “healthy” way. I feel like people have expectations when it comes to grief, but maybe those are the people who’ve never had to go through something that causes such searing pain your chest when you think about it, that you can’t breathe. People assume that after a year, you should be “back to normal.” But that just doesn’t happen when someone who’s been a major part of your life for 43 years is taken away suddenly.
My dad. I don’t know that I’ve ever known of anyone who was kinder or a better person than my dad. He and my mom had 4 kids within 6 years (3 of whom were boys) and I never saw him lose his temper. I never heard him talk bad about anyone. He was always patient and kind, and always made everyone feel welcome. He was interested in everyone and everything, and loved to listen to others. Being the only girl with 3 brothers, I became something of a “daddy’s girl.” My mom worked in the hospital when I was younger, so she worked a lot of nights and weekends. My dad had a 9-5 job, so we spent a lot of time with him. He loved being with his kids, and we spent countless hours playing basketball, going on hikes, playing board games, etc. My dad had a great laugh that came easily to him.
When my 3rd child was born, I stopped working in the hospital and switched to an office job, with fewer late night and weekend hours. The daycare where my 2 girls had gone wasn’t able to accept a newborn. My dad had just retired, and I talked to him about hiring him to watch my kids for me. He accepted readily. He loved being with his grandkids, too. He took care of them for 10 years, until he passed. In fact, he was scheduled to watch them the day after he died. He was as great of a grandpa as he was a dad. He played with them, taught them, read to them and loved them. He used to write down funny things they would say or do as toddlers and young children, to be able to tell me about it when I came home from work. He loved playing sports with them, and he never missed a game as they got older. I was a wreck watching my daughter’s first volleyball game without him.
I usually saw my dad 4-5 days/week, for 10 years. He was a great listener, so I told him everything. Then, one Wednesday he and my mom had the kids at their house on the lake. I remember talking to my husband when I got out of work that day, trying to decide if I should just swing by and pick them up, or if we wanted to hang out there for a few hours that evening. I’d had a really stressful day at work, and wanted to just go home, but we decided to bring food and grill out at my parents’ house instead. We grilled out, ate dinner on their deck and talked for over an hour. Then we took the pontoon boat out as the sun was setting, and took a few trips around the lake. As we neared their house after a few trips, my husband asked if we wanted to go in, or take one more trip around the lake. My dad responded, “One more trip around,” so we did. After that we docked the boat, said goodnight, and as I left I said to my dad, “See you tomorrow.” That was the last time I saw my dad.
He was training for a triathlon, because even at the age of 71, he was in incredible shape. Apparently he left home around 10 am to go for a several hour long bike ride. He never came home. Based on the autopsy report it was accidental and not a medical condition that caused it, and we’re very thankful that based on the cause of death, he didn’t suffer. We’re also grateful that he was found. Circumstances were that he was in a location where finding him was difficult. We were very lucky regarding that, because not finding him and not knowing would have been so much worse.
It’s now been 14.5 months, and I still have a hard time accepting that he’s gone. I hate it when a thought pops in my head, like I should make him a batch of goulash (one of his favorites) now that it’s fall, or that the kids can give him their Almond Joy candy bars from their Halloween hauls, because he’s the only one I knew that liked those, but then I remember… I want him to see his grandson strike out a batter or make a great tackle, or his granddaughter make a steal and a lay-up, or serve a killer serve in volleyball. He should be there for that. I have so much to talk to him about, because he was the only one who would listen without judging. I’ll never understand why God took him, such a great man, when there are so many horrible, evil people in this world.
I don’t have an answer for how to relieve this grief a little, or how to make it less painful. I have books that I’ve read, but when I finish them, my dad is still gone. I guess I’ll just keep pushing through in a painful fog, hoping that in a few years things will hurt a little less, and I’ll be able to still breathe when I think about him. I miss you dad.