When I was a kid, I thought my parents were invincible. Even with each passing year, they always seemed healthy and so very young to me. As I got older, my parents – along with my Aunt Janis and Uncle Dave, and their buddies – would tell me and my cousins about all the dumb shit they used to do when they were growing up. Hearing their stories, you’d wonder how the hell they made it this long without dying – or at least losing a limb. Yet there they were, still throwing parties, drinking, telling stories, listening to loud music, and playing cards until the early morning hours. My parents always knew how to have a good time and I loved that about them.
Dad had just turned 65 when he was diagnosed with stage 4 esophageal cancer. Even with it being stage 4, I remember thinking that there was no way he was not going to beat this, how he still had at least another 20 years left in him and that with some chemo and radiation – maybe a little surgery – he would be fine. After all, 60 wasn’t even that old... and my parents were obviously still invincible. After his second and third opinion, I remember how much it broke my heart listening to my dad talk about how he wouldn’t be able to watch Parker grow up. I think that was the third time in my life that I had ever saw him cry. I hated that he and Parker would have such a limited amount of time together. I hated that his life was getting cut so much shorter than it should’ve been. I hated that I had been so naïve thinking I had all the time in the world to spend with him. I tried to hold onto hope and constantly prayed for a miracle, but it never came.
Watching my dad die, I felt completely and utterly helpless. I was already entirely broken down from losing Dave and even though I knew Dad's death was imminent, I was nowhere near prepared for it. I couldn’t fathom life without him here. Now, almost four years later, my aunt and cousins are experiencing something similar, as my uncle Dave passed away Friday, January 29. I take comfort in the fact that he died peacefully in his home with family by his side, and that he is now up in Heaven with Dad riding their Harley’s, drinking beer, listening to loud music, and telling some wild stories, no doubt making everyone up there roar with laughter. While that puts a smile on my face, seeing my uncle at the end and watching my aunt give him meds to keep him comfortable stirred up a lot of memories and feelings from when Dad died. And man, has it have me feeling extra emotional this past week because I miss him so damn much.
As someone who has tragically lost a parent (and as most of you know, a husband), here are a few things I’ve learned:
It doesn’t matter how old you are… you never stop needing your parents. I may be turning 38 in August, and by all accounts be an adult, but the truth is I still need my dad. My dad was full of so much information and knowledge about anything and everything. I wish I could still get his advice and guidance when I am struggling with things and that I had learned more from him.
Tomorrow is never promised, so spend all the time you can with the people you love. Let them know how important they are to you. Tell them you love them. I was so lucky that when my parents moved back to Michigan from Tennessee, they eventually found a house that was only five minutes from me and I was able to spend a lot of time with them, having family dinners, watching sports games, playing Euchre, shuffleboard and darts in their basement, and listing to music while having some beers. I would give anything to be able to play one more game of Euchre with my Dad or watch one more Red Wings game with him.
Take all the pictures and videos, all the time, to help you soak everything in – every detail, every word, every sound – so you can hang onto those memories for dear life and burn it into your brain the best that you can. On family vacations and holidays, Mom would be taking pictures and Dad always had his camcorder out recording what seemed, at the time, to be nothing of importance. When I was a teenager, I may have thought it was lame, but when I think back on it now, I’m so glad they did that because even though some memories have faded over time, we have photos and videos to look back at and jog our memory.
Talk about your loved ones as much as you want to. I don’t care if you think people are sick of hearing about those you’ve lost – talk about them anyway. Do things that they loved to do to celebrate their memory. One of the ways I do this with Parker is by sharing music my dad used to listen to with him. That’s how Eric Clapton's “Wonderful Tonight” became one of Parker’s favorite songs.
Be grateful for the tiniest gestures. One of the things I miss most about my Dad is how he’d randomly show up at my house on a day I was working from home with coffee and bagels. We’d sit down and drink our coffee, eat our bagels and chit chat. While it may have only been for 30 minutes to an hour, I loved spending that time with him because it was just me and him.
It’s OK to let other people fill in. While no one – and I mean no one – can replace my dad, my father-in-law has done an exceptional job at filling in for that role and I’m eternally grateful for that. I know not everyone is married and therefore may not have an in-law to step in, so if there are other people who want to help you and act as a “filler parent,” let them care for you.
While the death of a parent – or any loved one for that matter – can change you, please know it does not define you. You may feel broken down at times and that’s OK. You may cry yourself to sleep at night and that’s OK, too. The most important thing I’ve learned from my losses is that even though life isn’t the same, you will learn to live again and experience joy. I promise you that.
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