Happy New Year! I’m glad you are here. 🎉
Welcome to 2026, you made it!
Last year this time I was getting ready to slide into 2025. Mom and I had visited my dad in the nursing home the prior week. I watched his then 86-year old muscle-free frail frame curled up under a single sheet. He looked so peaceful, resting quietly, which was a far cry from the random outbursts of frustration he occasionally exhibited when he didn’t want to be bothered by staff during bi-hourly check-ins.
When I got home from that early January visit, I was tired, beyond tired. Ten years of making sure dad got the care he needed and deserved was starting to catch up with me. Plans for a trip to see him on his upcoming birthday ran through my mind. Although seeing him would be nice the thought of getting back on the road again so soon pressed on my level of exhaustion.
I was glad I did the 100-mile trip though to see him on his birthday. He turned 87 years old, then shortly after that there came a larger decline. He slept a lot more. A whole LOT more than usual amount of sleeping he did.
Passings and Goodbyes
The Director of Nurses called me after watching his sleep so much for a few weeks. This call led to a meeting with his staff, then next a call to hospice, then on April 11, 2025 at 5:15 in the morning I got ‘a ‘the call‘. A sweet, kind, young voice on the other end informed me that my daddy was no longer breathing. I don’t know what she said few minutes, I heard her words but they got jumbled up in my own thoughts at that moment. I only remember saying I would head there right away.
My mind immediately went to the fact that I needed to call my mom. I told the nursing home to call me first for any emergencies. I called mom. She was quiet, like I was. We knew his time was near but it still was so stunning and unreal.
The Days Following
After all the funeral planning and activity ended, I drove home. My home seemed exceptionally quiet but life went on.
I returned to my job, I cleaned house, talked with friends who checked in, worked in my garden, etc. etc.
Then one day a couple months later I woke up feeling strange. That’s the only word I could think of to describe what I felt. I wasn’t sick, sad, happy, or tired. It was something I could only describe as … strange. I called a therapist. Even though I’d studied counseling, grief, and human behavior and understood grief processes in my head, I knew I needed to see a professional to talk through this new strangeness.
My appointment was enlightening. I discovered that my grief was not uncommon to what some people experience but the main issue in my case was that because I was an only child for nearly the first decade of my life I had wonderful memories with my dad that only he and I shared.
When I returned home from his funeral and went about my life, I had tons of memories of him that flooded my heart. However, there was no one to share these memories with who could laugh, cry or console with. I simply tucked all the memories somewhere inside and they stacked up miles high. My counselor helped me to understand what was happening.
For me, she nailed it.
The mere revelation of it seemed to start a healing process all on it’s own. Simply because I understood what was happening.
Life slowly began to feel normal… then in July, I lost my job. I knew it was coming, but like the expected death dad, this was also a blow to my being. This second loss was triggered a setback.
I decided to take two months off from life and be in my garden for the summer. I needed the sun, I needed the physical labor of tending to it, I needed to sweat, and I needed … rest.
I didn’t bother looking for another job right away, and by the time I did start to look I realized that I was in a whole life and career change.
By the time Christmas rolled around I was ready for a break. A lot had happened between July and December. Lots of thoughts, changes, feelings, projects, laughs, tears, and healing.
Right away Christmas felt different this year. I wasn’t motivated to celebrate, decorate, socialize and do the usual Christmas-y stuff. I did things but sometimes it felt like I was just going through the motions. The first Christmas without my dad.
I kept check on mom to make sure she was okay. She was. I accepted several Christmas invitations, which were enjoyable. However, the whole season felt off. I resorted to bad eating habits, less exercise, more isolation for a few days.
I hung out at home a lot, and slept in longer than usual many mornings. I soon recognized that this was still just a part of the grief process. One minute I felt very solemn and reflective, and the next minute smiling and joyful. There are ups, downs, ins and outs, and now round-abouts during the grief journey and it’s okay.
Rollercoaster Adventures
Grief really is like a roller coaster.
In the beginning it’s like the Steel Vengeance Rollercoaster in Ohio, lots of slow climbs toward that sky then sudden drastic declines with drops and twists.
Over time, the roller coaster becomes like the kiddie rollercoaster with random, gentler rises and falls.
I’m currently at the kiddie roller coaster stage. I’m absolutely fine most days then occasionally I’ll walk past a photo of dad on my refrigerator, or open a window on my laptop and his photo shows up and I feel my eyes well up a bit, then life goes on.
It’s all part of the process.
All of this to say, grief is real and if your holiday season was a bit off after losing a loved one, that’s ok. That’s normal. That’s expected.
It’ll get better when it gets better.
One Last Thing
If you want to find a counselor and you’re concerned about not being able to express what is going on inside, don’t worry about that. Go anyway. They are trained to help you process what is going on.
There is no shame in that. Find one that you feel comfortable with, and don’t be surprised if you have to visit a couple different ones before finding the right one. That is normal.
Just don’t neglect what is happening inside you.
There are several grief organizations available as well. Do an internet search for grief support programs in your area and you’ll find plenty, like GriefShare.
I have an entirely new, more enlightened perspective on what it means to ‘lose a loved one.’ When I hear that someone has lost a loved one now, my heart responds in a deeper, more compassionate and connected way. I understand now.
Well, that’s all. I just wanted to check in with everyone to make sure you are doing okay in our rocky and rough world.
Feel free to reach out to me if you need support in finding a counselor or if you’d like to schedule time to meet with me. Send me a message and I’ll reach out to you.
Until the next time.
Hugs to YOU 💛,
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