I lost my Dad when I was 10 years old. He was 52 when he died. He died from a sudden heart attack whilst at work and I never saw him again. It is coming up to the 34th anniversary in a few days and already I am in pieces. I miss my Dad all the time but am always beside myself when it gets to the dreaded 22nd of May. I went for years without talking to anyone about it and just shut it out. Recently I have tried talking about it but it doesn't make me feel any better. There is such a big gap in my life . I feel like such a loser - my Mum is nearing her 85th birthday, she never re-married, nor did she ever date another man - I am so proud of her. She seems to be very strong and I wish I had some of her strength. I have never been able to talk to her about losing my Dad, I'm afraid of upsetting her. I always thought it would get easier as the years went on but it doesn't. I know there are no answers on how to cope but any suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

John

John,

In reading your comments something flashed through my mind. You didn't discuss your dad's death with anyone for years and you never discussed it with your mum for fear of upsetting her. I wonder if both of you didn't discuss it with each other fearing they might upset the other? Each of you, observing the other never brings it up, just assumed the other wasn't hurting like they were.

Death of a loved one is very traumatic and lingering. I have detected that others, friends, etc. avoid broaching the subject to me for fear of upsetting me and I don't express my feelings to them for fear of imposing or looking weak.

Sure leaves a lot unsaid that needs an outlet and leads to keeping all these feelings inside even when there is an outlet available. Like a circle of misery.

My dad went home to be with the Lord eight years ago and there isn't a day since then I haven't missed him.

He was my hero and I still grieve for him. You here the word closure a lot but to me it's just a
Word.

There is no closure when you lose someone you love with all your heart and who has guided you through all the growing up incidents you have as a young person.

Luckily I have four brothers and two sisters and a whole passle of friend who finally made me talk about it.

It was a very long time before I accepted his death and when I did
Two years after he died, I fell to pieces.

I wept for a very long time and even screamed when there was no one around. My pal, my shoulder... the one I talked too everyday was gone.

My husband held me and listened when I talked and so did my siblings. I felt as if I were an orphan even though my mom is still with us.

I was angry with God, angry with the doctors, angry with myself because all the time he was in the hospital I rarely left. I put my job on hold to be there with him.

The night I finally did leave to come home and rest, I kissed him on his forehead and I kissed his hands and said, "See you in the morning Daddy". I hadn't been home very long when the phone rang and my husband came into the bedroom and said; He's gone.

I didn't cry because I couldn't. I had left him and all my siblings and my mom were there and I left him. I'm doing a lot better and I have learned to live with the fact he is gone.

Talk to someone even if you have to go to his grave and talk to him.
It will help and if you want to cry and scream, do it.

I will see my Dad again someday.
God Bless You and help you to start finding a way to deal with this. Talk to God. He's ready to listen and he already knows what's in your heart.

He died from a sudden heart attack whilst at work and I never saw him again.
I am really sorry for your loss and sorry it has been so painful all these years.

My dad died in a similar way, of a massive heart attack while at a church meeting (he was a Lutheran pastor). At first, it threw the family into a tizzy -- the suddenness and the fact that we weren't able to tell him one more time that we loved him. My mom, in her wisdom, told us that he had the beginnings of glaucoma and would probably have gone blind in a year or two. His sudden death was almost a blessing -- little or no pain, no loss of sight that he would have hated, no lying in a nursing home maybe crying out for pain medication or companionship late at night.

We each wrote a page or two of memories of him--silly ones, serious ones, sentimental ones--and put them together in a book. Two artistic grandchildren drew front and back covers for the book, and one daughter took the book to a copy place to make copies and get them bound. Each family member who contributed got a copy of the book. During all this, copious amounts of tears were shed.

The widow, the children, and the grandchildren got together and planted a tree in his memory. The tree stands near the house where he lived for 40 years and is in the front yard of a residential facility for the disabled where he liked to visit.

He is often somewhere in our conversations with each other. We don't hesitate to speak his name and remind each other of something funny he used to say or about his love for the Chicago Cubs or the way he read the jokes from the new Reader's Digest to anyone who would listen.

Talk about your dad. Especially talk about the happy times and the good things he did for you. Talk about him with your mom. She needs healing too, and talk--and shedding tears together--is the best way to heal.

Wondergirls daddy sounds a lot like mine. I guess we all have good memories and what is so strange is I can't ever remember a time when my Dad was not there for me and my family.

Remember all the good times. I think it was hard to accept the fact that he had died after I left the hospital. If it had been me lying there so sick, he would have never left me.

Try talking to your mom now. It may surprise you how much she wants to talk about him. Blessings