Missing Him, Finding Me

Grief - a word that is said so much, but understood so little.

Two things have been made crystal clear throughout my grief journey over the years.

Number 1: I didn’t understand how so many emotions could hide under the surface but be so clear for everyone else to see.

It was about two years after I lost my dad when people around me started asking,

“Why are you so angry?”

I remember hearing it so frequently that eventually I started getting angry just because everyone kept asking me.

I didn’t feel angry.

I wasn’t having outbursts. I wasn’t fighting with friends. I wasn’t walking around pissed off at the world.

So, why did everyone else keep seeing something in me that I couldn’t see in myself?

I finally told my therapist about it, and she gave me an assignment.

“I want you to go home and write an angry letter to your dad. Write everything you are angry at him for.”

Days later I started writing… and within a matter of sentences I wrote:

“You f*cking left me.”

And the tears started to pour.

And the words kept coming….

My letter ended up being 8-pages, front and back.

When I was finished, I read the entire thing, out-loud to his picture.

And then I ripped it to shreds.

I was angry. I just hadn’t known I was allowed to be.

Number 2: I will never be the same person as I was before he died.

When I first made that connection I remember panicking.

If I wasn’t going to be the person I was before my dad died..then who the hell was I going to be?

And that realization turned into another kind of grief.

I wasn’t only grieving my dad anymore.

I was grieving the version of me who existed when he was still here.

And then I had to figure out who I was without him.

Those may seem like the same thing, but in my eyes, they were very different.

We don’t really ever think about what life is going to look like without the people we love most.

Our brain creates a plan. A map of our future. We picture birthdays, holidays, weddings, accomplishments, phone calls, etc.

They’re automatically part of that picture.

So, when someone is suddenly taken from us - when there is no time to prepare, no understanding of why, and no opportunity to say goodbye, it can feel like the foundation of our entire life falls out from underneath us.

Trying to live life, or even attempt to picture what life is going to look like without them, can feel heartbreaking and hopeless.

And don’t get me wrong - two things can be true at the same time.

I can miss my dad and be angry at him.

I can love him and hate that he left.

I can feel peace and still wish he was here.

We don’t have to pick one or the other.

My dad will forever be a piece of my story and my life.

I will carry him in my heart, always.

I never will stop missing him.

But my life didn’t end when his did.

In a way, mine was reborn.

I see life differently now. I find different meaning in situations. I forgive a little easier. I love a little harder. I understand how quickly life can change and how important it is to actually live while we’re here.

Grief changed me.

But it didn’t take away who I am deep down inside.

I’m still angry he left.

I’m angry he didn’t walk me down the aisle on my wedding day.

I’m angry there are versions of me he never got to meet.

But also…

I am at peace believing he’s watching over me.

I’m at peace believing he’s protecting me in a way he couldn’t before.

I still love him.

He is forever my dad.

The relationship we had isn’t lost or forgotten. The connection and trust we shared wasn’t erased the day he died.

Our relationship just looks different now.

It’s distant - It’s not absent.

And I think that’s part of grief that we don’t talk about enough.

Grief takes a lot of internal reflection.

It takes a lot of forgiveness, too - and sometimes not forgiveness for the person who died, but forgiveness for the person who is still here grieving.

I had to forgive myself for being sad.

I had to forgive myself for being angry.

I had to give the little version of me permission to miss her dad.

I had to stop expecting to ‘move on’ and instead figure out how I wanted to move forward with him.

Because grief isn’t about erasing the relationship.

It’s been a journey of defining a new kind of relationship with my dad and figuring out how I want to honor him in all the ways I still can.

My heart will never be the same as it was when he was here.

But it is no longer missing pieces.

I’ve learned how to carry those pieces differently.

Grief can take many things from us.

Don’t let it take you and your light, too.

Some days are going to be better than others. And that’s okay.

Allow it to be what it is. Notice it when it’s present.

Give yourself permission to be angry when you’re angry. To cry when you’re sad. To laugh when a memory makes you laugh. To have an amazing day without feeling guilty that you did.

Don’t pretend that grief isn’t there just because you think you should be better by now.

Your heart deserves the opportunity to heal.

And acting like it isn’t hurt doesn’t give it the chance to feel love again.