If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook you may have read that my dad, Paul, died very unexpectedly the Monday before last, after suffering a stroke 1800 miles from home in Las Vegas, where he’d taken a cross-country RV trip with my aunt and uncle to visit their sister.
I am feeling raw, not just because, duh, my dad just died, and also not just because my mom died 10 years ago so that makes me an orphan at the age of 32. Don’t get me wrong, those two things really suck. But it’s a kind of sadness I can wrap my brain around, if that makes sense. We all know death equals loss and loss equals grief. It’s a formula we understand. I knew my dad wouldn’t live forever. In many small ways, I’ve been preparing myself for this event for years, especially since I lost my mom so early. So while it’s horrible and painful and I’ll miss him, what’s so strange to deal with is seeing how very much life does go on, and how much life will go on after I die, and all the uncomfortable questions that raises in my mind about how to best live these unpredictable, short, and sometimes simultaneously incredibly lovely and impossibly painful lives we are given.
These are not the thoughts I expected to be grappling with this week. If you’d asked me a month ago how I expected to spend the month of July I’d have told you I’d be writing, hanging out at the park and beach, and grilling in the backyard…not writing an obituary or rifling through pictures with my stepmother to put together into a slide show for my dad’s funeral service, or contemplating life after death and the meaning of existence.
I know from experience that things will get better bit by bit, and worse in some ways, as well. But in the meanwhile I’m having a hard time finding much energy for actual parenting. The kids have gone a bit feral over the last week and a half. They ran wild with their many small cousins for the last 10 days, sleeping where they landed and subsisting on takeout and snacks, bathing irregularly and staying up–and sleeping in–way too late. Now all the family has gone home, things should start getting back to normal, but, uh…they aren’t. The boys have been playing video games all day, “breakfast” happened at 11 AM and “lunch” just got served, and right now Clara’s under the table pawing at an empty carton of Ben & Jerry’s that her brothers just finished off. I’m having a hard time getting outside of myself long enough to remember that my kids have lost someone, too, and need a little extra care right now.
Readers, I don’t have any words of wisdom this week, but I’m hoping you can help me out. Do you have any advice or tips for parenting as happily and effectively as possible through grief?
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{ 26 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh Sweetie. If I can just stop bawling long enough to answer you –
What you are doing? is exactly right. Breakfast at 11? FINE. You get points for getting up in the morning and breathing and keeping butts clean. That’s about the extent of your responsibilities right now. The house, the laundry, the perfect meals – they will all come back in time – you just do what you can when you can and this girl will only applaud you for being gentle with yourself.
Also – in my case – upping my zoloft script – a great idea.
I think that it’s OK if things fall apart for a while. It’s summer, too, so things often fall apart a little then for me anyways.
If you really do want to get some order, though, maybe signing the kids up for a class or something would help? It gives them something constructive to do, it gives you some downtime, and it imposes some structure. But that’s totally not necessary. This is all still very fresh, and you can get back to the day-to-day when you’re ready.
The thing I’ve learned about kids and grief (not from death, but real grief from having low-grade cancer and looking at death in a whole new way), is that they are often the very thing that help, most of the time.
For example, I can mourn that life seems to be running away from me, but then he wants me to play. I don’t always want to, but I’m usually glad when I do. It’s a reminder to enjoy what I have right NOW.
If I’m stuck thinking about all the things I didn’t do, won’t pass on, or didn’t share, I can do them right NOW and have fun doing so. That helps – a lot!
My son is my greatest gift and right now, he’s my salvation in that sense in so many ways.
As far as the more mundane things, I’ve recieved good advice for the in-between times like this: focus on food and laundry and the rest is gravy. “Normal” will come in its own time.
Meagan,
I’m so sorry about the sudden loss of your dad. You must be devastated and shocked and a million other things. I’ll be thinking of you and sending white light your way.
I’m so sorry about your loss. I wish I had some great wisdom to impart, but I don’t. The best I can offer is, ask for help. Your friends want to help you. Ask them for what you need.
Otherwise, laundry will wait. Your house may get a little dirty and dishes will pile up. Don’t worry about it. Use paper plates and pre-packaged foods. Give yourself, and your kids, time without all the pressures of everyday life.
I am so sorry for your loss.
I think it is okay for your children to know that life is hard for you right now. I’m sure they don’t mind a break in structure, but on a more important level, seeing how you deal with grief – as in, you are actually taking the time to grieve, which is healthy – will help them to know how to deal with it in their own lives. Life doesn’t have to be happy all the time, and it’s not your responsibility to make it so. Learning how to deal appropriately with the unhappy times will contribute to the true overall happiness of their lives… and yours.
I am sure that if you google the question just like you asked us you will find information to help you. All the sites I go to are for helping after a child or sibling passes.
I am so sorry for your loss. You are so young to be without your parents. I am 58 and lost my mother when I was 31. I am currently in Florida helping my 87 year old father for a few weeks after being ill. We are thankful we still have him. These are precious moments I am having with him. We never know and each day we must live and treat people as if it could be their last. Love always!
I did read that you must take care of your grief before you can handle your children’s grief. Talking about it is the best and just loving each other more then ever.
Please know that I care and I will keep you in my prayers.
Meghan- I am so sorry to hear about the loss of you dad and I know you need time to grieve for yourself and at the same time help your children go through all this too. Please take care of yourself and ask for help if you need it.
As far as resources for talking to your kids…I just finished working on a project called When Families Grieve – talking to your kids about the death of a parent. It is produced by the organization behind Sesame Street and all the materials can be seen at http://www.sesamestreet.org/grief. I hope you can find these helpful and if you need more information or if you want an acutal kit/video sent to you please feel free to contact me!
You are in my thoughts.
I am so, so sorry for your loss. I lost my dad two years ago, and I still can’t quite comprehend the fact that I am never going to see him again (at least, physically). I’ve found comfort in seeing how much of him is in me. I think we don’t usually notice how many things we’ve learned from our parents (from the way we look at life to the minor things like how to wrap a present or change a tire), and how much of them is left in us. It also makes me feel better that I can recall the exact pitch of his voice and laughter, and the many things he used to say.
About parenting, I think it’s important to open up to your kids about the way you are feeling (crying with them, if that organically happens), and just showing them how you feel and how you are dealing. It’s important for kids to feel like their parents are still there, of course, but it’s an important lesson to be given permission to feel sadness and to understand that these feelings ebb and flow, and that it’s okay to feel them.
Oh Meagan, I’m so sorry to hear your Dad died and that things have been so hard for you and your family since then. I think sometimes after someone dies life sort of goes into slow motion, hence things going a bit out of kilter. I agree with what others have said that that’s ok. Even in the ups and downs of everyday life my routines and discipline vary and sometimes I realise I’ve been too slack and need to tighten up what I’m doing and other times realise that’s gone too far and I need to relax a bit. Sometimes I beat myself up about the inconsistencies but as long as overall I’m happy with how things are going, like over the space of a month or so, I try not to let myself worry about the extremes.
For me, parenting through grief means gritting my teeth, mustering all my energy and taking one step at a time, grimly determined to keep going. With lots of rest in between the steps. And my kids’ cuddles when I am crying have soothed the pain.
Thanks for sharing your grief with us and being real about your struggles.
I’m so sorry to hear that your Dad passed away… the best advice I can give is one day at a time, one step at a time and if you need to look at it this way one minute (or second) at a time. Grief doesn’t care who else there is to take care of even though you still feel the pressure to be the “perfect” mom. You can try writing in a journal to write down your feelings, that was the only way I got through life after losing our first child at 37 months and 10 months later having a new baby to take care of (God works in mysterious ways is an understatement!) I’m not mentioning it to have anyone feel sorry for me, but to tell you I feel for you even though I know I had different circumstances. Hang in there and God Bless…. I’ll be praying for you and your family.
I don’t have any advice, but I’ll keep you and your family in my prayers!
Someone once told me the only way out is through. I think you feel what you have to feel. Don’t fake it or pretend to feel differently.
You are in my thoughts.
Meghan, I’m so sorry for your loss. I think it’s healthy for your kids to see you grieve, process, and deal with this. We all know that life isn’t always happy, as much as we try to make it so, and kids understand this too. They will be fine with a lack of routine (and even proper nutrition!) for awhile. Take care.
I am so sorry for your sudden loss.
I agree with @jodifur, feel what you feel for as long as you feel it. No one can dictate how you should grieve. And even though you were in a similar position 10 years ago, don’t be surprised if the path of grieving for your father is different than the experience of grieving for your mom; indeed, honor it.
Things can stay feral for a while, but I wonder if getting back on schedule might help all of you. Have you written about the role of structure before? (Asks the mom who sorely needs more of it herself.)
Meghan, I am so sorry for your loss! Truly.
My husband lost his father in January, it was very sudden and the circumstances surrounding his death were quite shocking. When my husband came back from India after taking care of everything, I noticed that he was spending a lot more time with the kids, taking them places and in general, hugging & wrestling with them more than usual. I am not sure if that is advice or not, but it did seem to help center him back to where he needed to be.
Since I am the one who provides the structure to our days, we did not have to deal with too much craziness with the kids. However, the kids were really out of sorts while my husband was in India, so I do feel for you.
Please don’t be so hard on yourself. I agree with all the statements that say things can still be crazy for awhile as you come to terms with your loss. It won’t be the end of the world if the kids watch a little too much tv right now.
Peace.
There’s nothing good to say, but I hope you can find some peace and love with your kids that will help you through this difficult time.
My heart goes out to you! I lost my father suddenly when my only daughter (17 mos now) was 5 months old. It was difficult coping with just the reality of new mommy-dom but adding the loss of my dad made life seem almost unbearable.
My advice: Let yourself fall apart a little bit. Now that family has left & the phone calls are probably slowing down, take a breather & crash. See if someone can watch after the kids for a day & let you be on your own. Just make sure it doesn’t last too long. Your kids will be OK. It is important to let yourself deal with the loss & feel the pain that you have so that you CAN focus your attention back to them & get them back into the swing of “normal” life. And after you let it all out, you will be happy to have your kids to go back to to help keep you grounded. I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but that it what helped me get through everything. Make sure you are taken care of so that you can take care of your kids.
Good luck to you – I know how hard this is.
When my dad died suddenly 11 years ago, I wasn’t yet a parent. It saddens me every day to know that he won’t know my kids. But I gather that sadness in close and I instead share joyful stories of him so that my kids might get a small glimpse of the man that was–and continues to be–such an influence on who I am. You sound like you are doing the important stuff, and letting the less-crucial daily mothering tasks go. And I hope that by talking about your dad with your kids, the days will get easier and you will be able to get back to a “normal”–if new normal–way of getting to and through summer.
Meagan,
I’ve been thinking about you a lot since I saw what happened on Twitter. I think it’s completely understandable that things are wild and woolly around your house right now.
I haven’t been where you are right now – when my mom died I hadn’t yet had children. So understand that my advice comes from the perspective of someone who has lost a parent, and is a parent, but not both things simultaneously. It sounds to me like perhaps three things are in order:
1. You get any help you can with the kids from friends or activities that you pay for (is anything offered through your local rec department)? If you know that the children are in good care, even if it’s just for a few hours, you’ll undoubtedly feel better and more able to grieve.
2. You spend a little one-on-one time with each child, doing you best to suss out what he or she needs from you. Even if it’s just for five or ten minutes.
3. You don’t sweat the small stuff. The house will be messy for a while. You probably won’t eat well for a while. Routines will be set aside…for a while. Eventually you will feel the energy and desire to put things back closer to where they were and you will.
My only wish is that I lived close by – I’d offer to watch those kids of yours in a hot minute.
I am of course praying for you and hoping that you find your way through this wilderness as I know that you will. All peace and love to you and your family.
I missed this post. I’m sorry to hear about your dad. My only advice is what a friend once told me. It’s the same advice I’ve used for everything else over the past 20 years: just keep pedaling.
I’m so sorry for your loss!
I haven’t read all the comments, but I think it’s perfectly okay for your kids to know that you’re sad because your dad died! I’m not saying to lean on them, of course, but that if you need to cry because you’re missing them, that you need to take a little time to yourself, you will be showing them how to express emotions in a productive way. And doing so will help make the rest of it easier.
My best wishes to you, and I look forward to meeting you at the Summit.
As always, I’m late to the party…
Meagan, you just need to grieve. That’s it. I don’t have experience with parenting while grieving because my mom died while I was pregnant. For a few weeks after she died I didn’t want to celebrate the pending birth of my child. I wanted no joy at all. Not to mention that part of the deal I had with my sick mom was that she would take care of herself & heal up in time for the baby’s birth. She bailed on her end, I would bail on mine…as much as I could anyway. I can’t recall who did it, but I’m sure it was a combination of my husband and close friends who basically told me to “shape up and celebrate this baby’s birth!”
Of course I’m not telling you to snap out of it. Hell no. But know that you have a ton of loving people around you who are watching. Let yourself grieve and if you go a little too far, someone will point it out. If you find Clara gnawing on something dangerous, then it’s time. But Ben & Jerry’s? She’ll be fine.
love ya kid.
I lost my dad at the age of 17. It hurts. It really hurts! You are in my prayers.
Meagan, I just met you this week and loved your spirit and enthusiasm. So when I came by to read your blog, this was, unexpected. But I so identify. Not with loss, but with the feelings and emotions that you so beautifully put into words. Belated thoughts and prayers. Much hope for peaceful days. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Meagan — I’m just now getting all caught up on your blog. Was just so, so, sorry to read this. From the tone of your recent posts, it sounds like you are solidering on (of course). But I am just so sorry for your loss.
xoxo