Grief is rarely a one-time thing. For many of us, it’s not a linear process or a simple emotion that shows up, is dealt with, and quietly goes away. Sometimes, grief comes in waves. Sometimes, it hits you years later while driving to work or making dinner. And sometimes—like in my case—it happens twice for the same person.
I lost my dad twice.
Once in November 2017, and again on December 26, 2021.
The First Goodbye
The first time is the hardest to explain. It wasn’t death, but it was loss. That November, I made the painful decision to cut off contact with both of my parents. My mom has an untreated mental illness that, over the years, made her increasingly unstable. Her pain usually erupted in the form of uncontrollable anger. The targets: myself and my father. We’re talking verbal and physical abuse, as well as things like stolen identities, cash, and dignity.
On Halloween 2017, I called mom on my way to work. I never quite knew what version of her would pick up. I was greeted by her screaming “What the &$@% do you want?” I don’t know what changed in me, but at that moment, I had decided that enough was enough. Even though I had 30+ years of experience dealing with this, it still sent my anxiety through the roof. In that moment, I gave her a choice: she could choose to treat me the way she would want others to treat her or we could stop talking until that was something she could provide. That was the last time I ever spoke to my mom.
I reached out to my dad, explaining what had happened. That is when he gave me an ultimatum: let mom be mom and talk to me how she wants or he would no longer speak to me. And that is the last time I would ever talk to my father.
My dad was an alcoholic, a product of a long line of alcoholics. My mom—despite constantly yelling at him for drinking—would still get in the car and buy him a 30-pack, sometimes multiple times a day. He had previously been diagnosed with bladder cancer and was told that he needed to stop smoking and drinking if he didn’t want that to come back or worse, have it spread.
The Second Goodbye
Four years later, I got the text I knew would come one day…I just didn’t quite expect it to be so soon. He was only 67 years old. On December 26, 2021, I received a message from my dad’s phone saying that he was gone. For good. Shortly followed by a message asking what I was going to do for the anonymous texter, who clearly was my mom.
I remember walking outside and calling my brother immediately. (My mom has still yet to share the news with him herself.) I went back inside, had my husband get the kids ready, and we went for a car ride. No one talked. I cried. It was what I needed in the moment.
I always knew this day would come. I had mentally prepared myself for it. But nothing prepares you for the weight of that reality.
What I’ve Learned: 5 Tips for Navigating Grief
If you’ve dealt with loss—or if that day ever comes (and it likely will)—here are five things that helped me. I hope they’ll help you too.
1. Give It to God
This has been one of the most healing practices for me. I pray. I talk to God about it. Letting God into your grief doesn’t erase the pain—but it softens it. And sure enough, He’ll always send me a reminder that He hears me, whether it’s through a verse that randomly comes to me or through a beautiful sunrise.
2. Expect It to Come in Waves
Grief is unpredictable. It shows up on birthdays, Father’s Day, holidays, or random Tuesdays. Let yourself feel it when it hits, but don’t stay stuck there. I give myself a day when it comes—acknowledging the emotion without letting it consume me.
3. Give Yourself Time
You don’t just wake up and move on. Grief is a process, and it doesn’t adhere to your job’s bereavement policy. If you’re not “better” in three days, you’re not doing it wrong. You’re just human.
4. Share Your Story
Writing this post is part of my healing. Sharing your story helps you process, and it helps others who are walking a similar path. You’re never alone. There are people who need to hear your story—and people whose stories will help you too.
5. Talk to a Counselor or Therapist
My employer offers an Employee Assistance Program (EAP) with six free counseling sessions per issue. I used it when I cut off contact with my parents, and again when my dad passed. I ended up continuing well beyond the free sessions. Talking to a neutral, trained professional who could offer both compassion and practical advice was one of the best decisions I made. Also, I could spend the entire hour crying, and she was okay with that.
Final Thoughts
Grieving someone who’s still alive is one of the most complicated forms of heartbreak. Losing them again after death adds another layer of sorrow. But grief is also a strange kind of gift—it reminds us of the depth of our love. Of our humanity. Of our need for healing and hope.
If you’re grieving today, I see you. I know your pain. And I promise you’re not alone.
God is near to the brokenhearted.
Let Him walk with you through this.
And when you’re ready, tell your story.
It just might help someone else survive theirs.
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