Parenting while Grieving a Parent

I have been a daddy’s girl my entire life. My dad was simply the best. He was there at every dance recital, for every heartbreak, for every big mistake, and sneaking out late. He taught me forgiveness and always shed a tear when apologizing after losing his cool, even though I always deserved worse punishment than I was given.

My dad was filled with pride and was always the strongest but softest man I had ever known. Finding the right guy to marry was a challenge because they all had to compete with the greatest man I knew. He helped me navigate big decisions and was always there telling me to “Buck UP” when I was being dramatic or feeling broken. When I finally was engaged to my now husband, he would well up in tears every time we mentioned our wedding. And on that day we finally had our father-daughter dance, I vowed to always be his little girl.

The news of my Dad’s cancer was the most devastating day to date. Watching my hero endure an incredibly terrible diagnosis was more than heartbreaking. Doing it while raising one-year-old twins seemed impossible. He fought an outstanding fight and defied the odds he was given. At one point he was even told he had beat it. We looked forward to him feeling better and taking his grandkids fishing. Unfortunately, pancreatic cancer is cruel and unpredictable and most often, fatal.

My dad’s cancer would come screaming back with a vengeance shortly after the twins turned 2. Suddenly I was navigating how to find child care for my kids while I was at my dad’s side watching him lose his strength and his life. Who will watch them while we make funeral arrangements? What will they wear to a funeral? Who could watch them during the visitation? Will they walk down the aisle with us behind Dad’s urn? What if they act up while the priest is talking? Do we let them say goodbye? How could they possibly understand what we have just lost? Will they remember this? Will they remember him? Please, let them remember him.

Grieving a Parent

And now, I am navigating the grief of my father passing while trying to parent. It is the hardest job I could imagine.

Grief doesn’t really care you have kids to potty train, dishes to do, and laundry to fold. It hits you when you least expect it, when you’re in the middle of the fruit snack aisle and his favorite song comes over the speaker.

Grief doesn’t hear my kids asking me “are you sad again today, mommy?” It certainly doesn’t subside when you are trying to drag your screaming toddlers out of the preschool parking lot.

Grief steps up when you’re at the grocery store and internally screaming “DON’T YOU KNOW MY DAD JUST DIED?” when someone cuts in front of you at checkout.

Grief creeps in when you least expect it and washes over you like a battle wave. It makes you feel like you are cemented to your bed, covered in 1,000 lb blanket, but your kids are crying for breakfast.

Grief could care less about the magic of Christmas you’re trying to bring to your 3-year-olds, your holidays will never be merry like they once were.

Parenting is a lot like grief in a way though.

You have no idea what you’re doing. It’s unpredictable, and it can make you feel angry, guilty, lonely, and sometimes crazy. Some parenting topics are taboo to talk about and grief is at the top of the list.

People expect your grief to subside quickly, and they definitely don’t want to bring up your lost loved ones. They try to make small talk and avoid the giant elephant in the room that is your loss. How awkward. They think it’s easier on you if they just don’t mention it, when in reality you would do anything to laugh about the good times. So many good times. But instead, you just stay in your sadness, grieving alone.

Parenting and Grieving

I realized after a couple of months of not mentioning my dad’s name and not talking about him, my kids weren’t remembering who he was. So now, I talk about him every day. They talk about him every day.

I want them to know exactly the kind of dad he was to me. The very best.

I want them to know how he thought their dad was pretty great himself.

I want them to know how they meant absolutely EVERYTHING to him. How he loved to fish and loved to laugh.

It’s okay to talk to people about their grief.

Talking about it is usually exactly what I do need when I am feeling heavy in the grief. Sometimes I am just craving to talk to someone about it, someone who doesn’t include two 3-year-old toddlers.

Grieving a parent, while learning to be a parent is confusing and hard but it has helped me teach them kindness.

Being on the other side of grief really makes you realize how many people are fighting battles you have no idea about. A stranger’s smile at the grocery store, someone buying your drink at Starbucks, a woman letting you merge into traffic, these are all things that can make a grieving person’s day.

If you see a frustrated mother, struggling with her toddlers through Target, give her a “You’re doing a great job!” It could be just what she needs to make it through the grief that day.

Parenting doesn’t come easy for anyone and losing a parent is harder than I could even imagine. Doing it all at the same time isn’t uncommon. Support the mother next to you, she could have lost her father, or her mother, or a child, or a marriage.

The truth is, most of us are experiencing some kind of grief, and kindness can help us all get through it together.