I lost my dad in March of this year, and as the year-end holidays approach, I’m beginning to angst about getting through the first Christmas without him. I’m almost his clone in personality (which is both good and bad), and I think that gave us a special bond. I’m also reflecting on some of the other firsts that have happened during the past few months: First birthday without him (his). First birthday without him (mine). First visit to my mom’s home without him present. First wedding anniversary with my mother.
Of course, that’s just a tiny list. Many of you have experienced major life events such as weddings, divorces, babies, grandchildren, new jobs, and new homes, without one or both of your parents.
I’m only just now realizing how incredibly long the list of firsts really is. I naively thought it would be predominantly about big occasions or life-changing events. For me, the most gut-wrenching longing occurs with the little things—just everyday happenings, conversations, and absolute nonsense that I was so accustomed to sharing with my dad. There’s often that split second where I forget and then—wham!—the reality hits like a boulder. He’s not here. Not being able to feel the excitement and anticipation of seeing his reaction or hearing his hilarious commentary is, at best, emotionally numbing. Most of all, though, I mourn for his profound unconditional love and support, regardless of the circumstance.
Now that several months have passed since his death, I still have, and probably always will have, moments when I burst into tears unexpectedly and without provocation, yet my day-to-day functioning has certainly improved. It may be that I’m beginning to accept that he’s really gone, which makes coping with his passing a bit easier.
I do believe, however, that no matter how much time passes, I’ll always yearn to reach out to my dad to share all my exciting, upsetting, and utterly mundane events. I suppose this is part of what others mean when they say you don’t ever get over the loss, but you learn to live well despite it.
I started a new job two weeks before my dad passed away. On my first day of work, he sent me an email that had no content due to his cognitive issues. Nevertheless, I knew exactly what he was trying to say, “Good luck with your new job.” I framed that email and hung it up in my home office. I feel so fortunate that I was able to share one last first with him.
This first Christmas without him will undoubtedly be an emotional challenge for me, my mom Dottie, and my sister Debbie. I plan to focus on enjoying the company of others while trying to fulfill his greatest wish for me—a sense of peace and happiness.
One thing I know for sure is that even though he has passed on, I’ll never stop talking to my dad. After all, I habitually spewed out all kinds of happenings in my life to him for almost 59 years, both good and not so good, and I refuse to stop now. I may now be sharing my firsts in a different way, but that’s going to have to be good enough. At least I can now swear and scream without worrying about his reaction! Full disclosure: I always did that anyway. I truly feel his presence at times when I’m talking to him. Is he really here? It doesn’t matter because he will always remain a huge presence in my heart.
by Jen Feener 
by Ashley LeCompte 
