Today I’ve been so sad about my dad, sadder than I was when he died a year ago on May 29th. It’s probably just the alcohol from last night still in my system but I feel sadder about it now than I have before. Just a huge sense of grief, and also sadness at the whole dying malarky. I read Everyman by Phillip Roth just before dad died and it comes to mind again. The circadian rigmarole seems so stupid when of a sudden there’s a full stop. And that’s it.
It hurts. I still hurt. My mom died 18 years ago, my sister 19 years ago.
{{{An Gadai}}}
I just realized yesterday again that my grandpa has been dead for a year and a half. I keep forgetting.
Just yesterday I burst into tears after a random thought about how much I miss my dad.
It’s been almost 17 years. Yes, it does get easier with time, An Gadai, but there are still those moments when I feel the loss acutely.
I feel it more acutely now than I did at the time or since. It’s so strange. At the time I was the most together of any of the family.
My Mum died last September and my Dad 5 weeks later.
I’ve gone through several emotions since then.
Currently I feel sad when I think about them passing, and (strangely) I occasionally get angry that there’s no-one to blame for them dying (they were both in their 80’s and went peacefully).
Funny, this thread comes just as I’m starting my yearly slide to the bottom of my grief after my son’s suicide seven years ago.
My birthday is June 24 he died on the 25th.
{{{An Gadaí and Picunurse}}} Especially for the both of you since both of you seem to be hurting so much right now.
It’s been just over three years since my dad died and five and a half years since my younger brother died and sometimes it still hurts. This weekend I was at my sis’s house (younger brother is her twin and since she was the only girl, she was daddy’s little girl, it hurts infinitely more for her that it does for me) and we were talking about how it just doesn’t seem that long since either one of them died.
The death of those we love always hurts on some level though it may lessen a bit as the years pass. Still there are times I miss them so much.
My mom will be gone 9 years on Thursday (which is also my birthday). The anticipation always bothers me. No one wants to fuck up my birthday so we generally don’t talk about her on that day. But it’s this big, looming elephant in the room. I’ll probably do what I do every year, which is to remember her alone, knowing everyone else is remembering her alone.
It has gotten easier, but anniversaries are a bitch. An awkward, melancholy bitch.
A week and a half ago, my father had a frightening stroke, and for a good three hours, I thought we would lose him.
He, of course, stablized and proceeded to recover at a phenomenal rate. However, the window that little time of horror, fear, loneliness, and internal collapse gave me makes me all the more sympathetic.
I’m so very sorry for your losses. If there is any comfort I can offer, please let me know.
My Dad died 4 weeks ago whilst on holiday in Australia. We all managed to get there and he slowly went downhill over 10 days. I’ve never watched anyone die and this was my Dad! It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. We went from hysterical crying to hysterical laughing.
My mum threw out my dad’s holiday underwear and then one of my sisters said he needed a pair for the cremation (not sure why - couldn’t he have been cremated commando?) so she yelled: “Melanie go fish a pair of your Dad’s undies out of the rubbish bin”. Now there was a sentence I never thought I’d hear - we fell about laughing.
It is comforting to know that other people know how you feel in your grief.
Grief is a very strange thing, in the way it takes so much time to creep up on us.
My grandmother died Saturday morning, but I didn’t begin grieving until yesterday afternoon. If the fact that I still grieve my dog occasionally (she died in January) is any indication, it will be quite some time before I come to grips with the situation.
Perhaps that’s the reason why it’s hitting you now. You were the “most together” at the time – perhaps that means you were the one who buried your grief the most, instead of expressing it. Now it’s finally beginning to resurface.
My mother died 23 years ago and my father died almost 1 year ago. I don’t know how I’m going to be on the anniversary of my father’s death next week. I’m going to be with my dear girlfriend that is like a mom to me, just to have some moral support if I get whacky about it. With my mother’s anniversary some years are fine, some are not.
It takes time to get over a death. I don’t know if one ever truly does - but I have found that it does get easier for the most part.
My Dad also died nine years ago, on my birthday. Talk about bad timing! A day that until then would always be my own special happy day is now also tinged with sadness, and I can’t help but feel a little guilty about celebrating too much. My mother and my brothers and sisters feel it too - they want to wish me a Happy Birthday, but it’s also a yearly reminder to them of dad’s death.
Anger is a normal part of the grieving process.
I’ve had trouble being angry. Maybe that’s why I’m having trouble moving on.
When do you usually get angry - I haven’t yet. I’ve noticed mum getting short with people when they ask her how she is, she has started responding with ‘how do you think I feel’ etc.
Grief never completely ends. It’s like a grain of sand stuck in your swimsuit that goes away after a shower. The memory of the pain diminishes until becoming a minor twinge of annoyance, but yet lingers forever as a reminder of how wonderful that time on the beach was.
MelCthefirst, I don’t get angry either, but Mom still gets angry at Dad for “dying three years too early, and the three last years being hell.”
Just yesterday I was talking about my grandmother’s death in another thread and I teared up. March 25, 1995, you’d think I would have gotten over it!
My husband and I ran into an old friend we hadn’t seen in around seven years yesterday afternoon. We found out that he recently lost his mom - and we started talking about our own parents. My dad died December 26, 1999 - and I got choked up talking about it. My husband’s father died over 25 years ago. My husband cried about it last night.
It never goes away, and it creeps back up on you at the strangest times…
My father died this year in January (the 16th). He was 91 years old. He began to die months before and although he was not suffering, he truly just wore out and faded away. It was much much harder to see him diminish than his actual death. It was very peaceful. I have mourned but believe he is now in a better place.