On January 2, 2023, my world shattered with an unexpected phone call urging me to rush to the hospital. For three agonizing nights, I sat alongside my siblings, holding my mother’s hand as we anxiously waited for our father’s last breath. Being the first to notice his stillness and the realization that he was gone forever, lying in my grieving mother’s arms, remains the most heart-wrenching experience I hope to never relive. The grief I felt was not just for myself, but also for my mother and siblings. Witnessing the breakdown of your entire family in unison is a pain that cuts deep.
Just before my dad was diagnosed on September 19, 2022, I had an inkling that this would be my best year yet. I was feeling good at twenty-three. Two months earlier, my dad had helped me settle into my first “grown-up” apartment. Both professionally and personally, I was making progress and moving forward. However, as soon as my dad’s diagnosis came, everything crumbled, and I found myself grappling with a harsh reality. How do you cope when, just as you find stability, you are struck with a devastating loss? Among the many unexpected lessons grief taught me, one of the most profound was that grieving also means mourning the person you were before the loss. For a young adult finding their footing, grief hits like an earthquake, shattering the newfound stability. Until my dad fell ill, my experience with death had been limited to those who had lived long and fulfilling lives. Losing someone like my dad had never entered my realm of possibility. Prior to his illness, my worries were focused on self-discovery and finding my path, not on who I would lose and how it would impact me. I soon realized that being one of the few people in my age group who had experienced such a profound loss meant that I carried the weight of grief alone. Although connecting with others who shared a similar sorrow provided solace, none of us had the answers to the questions haunting our minds – “What now?” and “When can I start paving my path to happiness, and how?”
At times, it still feels like those answers may never come.
During one of the countless sleepless nights after my dad’s passing, I turned to the internet in search of solace and understanding. I longed for someone to guide me through the grieving process. However, all I found were resources tailored towards children, teenagers, or spouses. It became apparent that there was little discussion surrounding the unique impact of grief on young adults. I realized I would have to navigate this uncharted territory on my own. The first question that consumed me was, “How can I live a long and happy life when time seems to make everything harder?” The realization that I have decades ahead of me, grappling with evolving grief, filled me with fear. The milestones I anticipated my dad sharing with me – walking me down the aisle, meeting my future children – now carry a bittersweet taint, reminding me of his absence. Reconciling with the fact that the world I inhabited before my dad’s illness will never be the same still stings. Seeing a father walking with his daughter on the street triggers a pang in my heart. Accomplishing small feats that I know my dad would be proud of, like building a table or changing the batteries in my smoke alarm, bring a mix of joy and sorrow. The realization that I can never again hear his voice saying, “That’s great, Emmers!” lingers as a constant ache.
I am still coming to terms with the knowledge that grief doesn’t have a finite healing process. A mark is left on the soul that endures indefinitely. I don’t possess a step-by-step guide on how to heal from grief. However, what I have learned is that the only way to move forward is to allow myself to feel the pain, no matter how excruciating. It may sound counterintuitive, but the moments where I let myself collapse under the weight of loss have been the moments of true progress. On one of the most heartbreaking nights, as I sat beside my father in the hospital, tears streaming down my face, I found the strength to ask him a question: “If there is one lesson you want me to remember when you’re gone, what would it be?” Gripping my hand, he responded, “Offer forgiveness and strive to be a good person. Simple as that. Understand that mistakes will be made. It’s inevitable. But it doesn’t matter.”
Though physically absent, my father’s words resonate with me every day. Losing someone so integral to your life during a pivotal phase is an immense challenge. What keeps me moving forward is the hope that, eventually, the goodness will overshadow the pain. Despite the unfairness and the knowledge that this loss struck at a young age, I must believe that it will shape me into a better, stronger version of myself. If you have a personal story that resonates, we would love to share it on HuffPost. Please take a look at our submission guidelines and send us a pitch.
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