My father passed away unexpectedly a little over two years ago. Some days, it feels like it was last week, an open wound with no healing in sight. Other days, it feels like it has been decades since I have heard his voice.
- The first piece of advice: Allow yourself to grieve. It sounds easy, but to allow such hurt and heartache can be a challenge. Some days, it will have no limits. The tears will flow and your heart will burn in a third degree sort of way. Other days, you'll laugh and smile with friends and the sun will shine; your heart will just burn slightly. Both are okay.
- Find something to connect to your loss. For me, it is the Red Sox. My father loved that team almost as much as he loved his own family. Hearing Jerry Remy announce a home-run or being in Fenway Park's atmosphere bring me back to moments with my dad that I will be able to treasure forever. They sting a little, yes. I won't lie about that. But every day, they sting just a tiny bit less.
- Let yourself be helped. You're hearing this from the queen of "I'm fine." and "I don't need anyone." Let. Yourself. Be. Helped. I cannot stress this enough. Grief is way too big of a monster to try to tackle alone. Help doesn't mean defeat. It can be as small as allowing a friend to buy you coffee on a particularly difficult day, or opening up and crying to a caring ear. Help can be finding a professional who can guide you through the million and one emotions that come with grief. There is no shame in any of the above. Even if you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, those feelings will be far less difficult to overcome than your loss will ever be. Don't try to go into it alone.
- Balance the hurt with the joy. Holidays, anniversaries and special days will always bring a painful sting. There will always be an empty place around the holiday dinner, or the anniversary of your loss will forever be a black hole in your calendar. That's fine. You have every right to have the hurt on those days. What you've lost is unfair to you. Despite the hurt though, remember the good in those days too. Remember the happiness that is still around your dinner table and the joy you had when the empty place was full. When the man you love gets down on one knee, cry tears of joy for this exciting new chapter, and shed a few that he never got to ask your father for permission. Hurt over the fact that you'll never get to share the news or a father-daughter dance with him. But smile too, because he taught you what to look for in a husband and set your standards so very high.
- Take care of yourself. Sadness can so easily turn into dirty hair, pajamas for days, and an estranged relationship with your shower. And that's okay - for a while. When that becomes a constant; when your life is on a permanent hold; when you feel unsafe because of how much control your grief holds - that is not okay. Self-care means giving yourself a free pass to wallow now and then. It is taking a bubble bath when the house needs be vacuumed, but listening to Adele and a glass of red wine are all you can manage for the night. Self care is saying 'no' when someone asks and giving yourself all the extra love that you can spare on the days when your heart hurts a little more.
- Lastly, remember them. Remember the person, remember the laughs and the stories - remember the good times. Again, sometimes those memories will hurt to go back to. But without them, the grief would not exist. We grieve because of how special and valuable such memories are. The pain and hurt are reminders of what good our loss brought into our lives before it was lost. Remember that value. Remember the love.
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