Letters from Readers: Remembering Lost Loved Ones
September 10, 2009
This was an email I received from a reader. I found it to be a beautiful tribute to her father, and know all too well the pain she is going through. I thought maybe, by sharing it here, some of you could help me find the right words to comfort her… even just a little. She told me she wrote this a few months ago, and still has his ashes.
*
My dad died on the 24th of April, 2009, and I have thought of letting go of his ashes many times in that time but either due to co-ordination of schedules with my mum and sister or my inability to let go, I am faced with possibly letting go today. It feels like my heart, amongst other organs, is being ripped apart.
I have been asking myself, am I ready? I want to create meaning to letting go of my dad’s ashes. But no date and nothing seems enough.
I have many similar personality traits to my dad. Is anything ever enough? I have thought about all sorts of ways to remember him or be connected. Writing in a journal just for him and I. Painting, drawing etc. but have been unable to even start doing those things because it means I will never have my dad in the flesh again, to hug, even to take for granted.
I sometimes get relief when I think nothing can tear us apart because I have his blood in my veins. Maybe that is it.
I feel a little pressure letting go today, because my sister does not live in the same city and I suppose I think that there’s is no individual day.
I have been thinking I might do something today as a remembrance before I say goodbye. My dad loved food. So maybe a one and one lunch, so to speak.
My dad loved life. No matter what the odds were, he beat them. He touched so many people’s life with his humour and wit. He had willpower that was unexplainable. He lived life on his terms. And thinking of that makes me so proud. When I think of the legacy my dad left me, that is to live life to the fullest and beyond, no limits, no hesitation, be who you are.
He was a great man in the sense that he had the courage before he died to make his apologies for any hurt he caused to those closest to him, to me. I saw in my dad’s eyes the love he felt for me and how important it was to him for me to know he loved me. My heart was open to his words, after all how many parents admit that they hold their firstborn to a higher standard or that they are stricter with the child most like themselves, or share the trueness of their own lives. For me, now, there is no greater gift.
He let my mum know that he appreciated everything she did for him and that she was the only woman he loved. He told his doctor that he had done his best and knew he could not play God. He also aired his views and made peace with those that wronged him.
And he died the way he wanted to, at home. Amazingly he was not sick at the time of his death. And although he was taken early, in the autumn of his life, he did his best to hang on for as long as he could, as much I wish it was longer.
I have decided to take one-day at a time to honour my dad’s life. He is still alive to me. I still feel his presence.
As I step into a new horizon, I take with me the gifts of the man who gave me life, twice, once at my birth, now by his legacy, my dad.
I love you dad and I thank you for our time together.
*
This was my reply:
What a lovely tribute to your dad. I totally know where you are coming from on this. We hung onto my dad’s ashes for about a year before the time felt “right” to do something about them. I’m glad we did because the four of us (siblings) got to be there together.
It has not been very long at all since you lost your dad… it may not feel right for some time to fully let go of him, and right now, the ashes are what is left of his physical form. However, when you think about it in greater terms, like you alluded to, he will always exist in your blood, in your memories, in the actions he did while he was here, and in all sorts of ways we can’t even begin to understand.
For a long time after my mom died, I had to tell myself that she was just on a trip somewhere, or busy with one of the other kids, because I couldn’t deal with the finality of it. But now I feel like both my parents are with me all the time, and with my siblings all the time. Finally, they are not torn between us, since we all lived in different places, but shared among us. You will ALWAYS have your dad as a huge part of you, with or without the ashes. Releasing them is just symbolic of an internal feeling of acceptance. There’s no need to rush that.
Thank you for sharing this with me… I am honored and humbled to be allowed a glimpse into your life.
*
What about you?
Have you experienced this, or something like it? Have you lost a loved one and found closure, or a great way to honor them? Do you have any words of wisdom or comfort for a grieving soul?
Thanks!!
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Posted in Letters From Readers, Life, acceptance, family, grief, love
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I don’t know what to say from the standpoint of a child; both of my parents are still alive, so I don’t know what it’s like to lose a parent.
From the standpoint of being a father, though, if I were to die, then I’d want my daughter to know that I was ok. I’d want her to know that I was happy and free, and at peace. I’d want her to believe that I was still with her, but with her all the time now. I don’t get to spend as much time with her now as I would like, so I think it would be awesome if she felt like I was with her all the time. I’d want her to feel my presence on the wind, in the rays of the sun, and with the rain and snow. When she played, I’d want her to imagine me playing with her, and when she grieved, I’d want her to know that I was holding her hand. As she grew up, I’d want her to believe that I was with her for all the milestones…graduations, wedding, childbirth, etc.
I’d want her to know that even though my physical form was gone, it was just a shell, and that my true being, my spirit, was finally free to do all the things I wanted to do in life, but couldn’t. I’d want her to know that even though I’m not physically present anymore, I’m closer than I had ever been before.
I don’t know if that helps or not, but I imagine that your father feels for you much the same as I feel for my daughter. He loves you, and he’s with you.
Jay Schryer´s last blog ..The Last Boy Scout
I just went through this dilemma myself. Well it feels like just now cause on the 5th of September was the 10 year anniversary of my Dads death. Yes 10 years, and i still remember every little detail about him. To me he was my Hero. When i came to know about his passing I wasn’t in the country..and due to visa issues couldn’t be there for his funeral. To this day i cant get over that feeling…when my brothers called me to tell me they were doing the burial at that very moment…it was too much at the time. I didn’t cry for a month. I couldn’t react. Cause i couldn’t believe it.
For me over the years what has helped me is my faith in the Almighty. I have come to terms with his decisions and don’t question them. In my heart i know My daddy is in a better place and is looking at me from up there and praying to the Lord that his children stay happy and healthy. I believe that God calls all the people whom he loves most to him faster cause he needs angels to pray for us earthlings
This belief gives me solace. Maybe it might give you some solace too.
Today i share all my problems with my daddy and I know he is listening and is holding my hand and guiding me in the right direction. He might not be here in the flesh but he is here in spirit always.
The memories never go away…and they shouldn’t either, cause these memories hold valuable lessons for our future. When some more time has passed you will understand the beauty of all those memories you shared with your father. And many a times memories you thought you had forgotten, the really small stuff will come back at just the right time and guide you.
This was a lovely tribute to your dad. He is really lucky to have such a wonderful and loving daughter such as yourself. I am sure he is a very proud daddy today…
Lots of love to you.
Darling Lisis, Thank you for sharing this letter here today. It has helped me immensely. Big Hug to you for always being so wonderful and thoughtful.
Zeenat{Positive Provocations}´s last blog ..Self Realization
As Lisis stated, there really isn’t a “right” time to let go. There should be no date or deadline that decides when you should give up his ashes. You’re not a robot and everything can’t be solved with a simple solution. Your dad passed away very recently, so allow yourself a proper mourning period. And as everyone has said before me, he’s not really gone. He’ll always be with you – in your memory, soul, and spirit. Now I can’t truly understand how you feel (my parents are alive as well), but I hope I’ve at least provided you will some sort of hope. You can hang on to your father as long as you want – when to let go is up to you.
A time will come when you accept his passing, and it will be at this time you will be most joyful. Joyful for the life he has given you and the support he has provided you with to make you who you are today.
You’re very brave to share this with us. Thank you.
And thank you Lisis for allowing us to help her.
John´s last blog ..20 Quotes That are Simply Motivating
Beautiful, brave post…
Positively Present´s last blog ..the best ways to organize your living space (and your life)
Dear Lisis – What a touching letter and response! I teared up reading it. It has been 28 years since my dad passed on – 24 since my mom’s death. I was so busy taking care of my mom after dad died and so angry at him (long story) that I didn’t grieve then. It was a long process of forgiving him and making my own peace with everything.
However, losing my mom was another story. On the Mother’s Day before she died, she gave me a little plaque that I still have and will always cherish. The words I will share —
I am always here to understand you.
I am always here to laugh with you.
I am always here to cry with you.
I am always here to talk to you.
I am always here to plan with you.
Even though we might not always be together,
please know that I am always here to love you.
Time may help to stop the tears, but the loss? I cling to the memory of her, and I can feel her presence randomly to this day. The spirit of one who loves you so strongly never leaves you.
I don’t know if this is any help at all. I think you were right in suggesting it may be too soon to worry about the ashes, emotionally. Acceptance takes time. If you truly believe (or once you can) that the loved one’s spirit is still with you in your heart forever, it helps immensely to part with the physical symbolic part.
Love and hugs to you both!
suZen
suzen´s last blog ..The Look
I believe someone once said that grief doesn’t lessen, it just becomes different. Accept your grief as part of your life, and a tribute to the bond and love you shared. Look forward to the day where your grief incorporates a realization that your father would never want your quality of life to be diminished because of the loss you feel, and take courage from that knowledge. Know that you are not alone.
Dear Reader,
I have a deep connection with my father, too. As Jay and John have mentioned, my parents are also still on this Earth. So, I know I can not truly know what you are going through. That said, reading your letter today made me realize that our parents are, in fact, very human and I cherish them. So, thank you for helping me today.
Having gone through some pretty serious stuff lately, all I can tell you is incredibly cliche, but it holds true: you need time. With this brave post today, I believe you’re taking a positive step – to reach out to others. We are all on this Earth together; I don’t know you, or even your name, but I can tell you that I’m thinking about you, holding you in my thoughts, and sending out love to you – that you will find your way and feel peace and comfort.
Take a deep breath, relax your body from the top of your head, down your shoulders, through your spine, hips, legs, and feet, as you slowly exhale. Then imagine me giving you the biggest bear hug in the world – just like you like it. Thank you for being you, and thank you, Lisis, for hosting this forum, enabling us to connect. You are both angels in my book.
Lori´s last blog ..These Roots Run Deep
Wow… you guys are the BEST. I haven’t been able to check in here all morning, so when I opened the page and found all of these beautiful responses, I was overcome! As I’m reading these, I am in tears because of the love that is poured into every word, and how compassionately you all are reaching out to someone you don’t even know. I’m sure this reader (and probably many others) will greatly appreciate all that you are sharing.
I’m also overcome because I’m learning new details about some of you… about bonds and tough experiences I didn’t know we shared. I am really enjoying learning more about my readers, and witnessing the caring, healing words you all are sharing.
THANK YOU!!!!!!
I don’t know why but I absolutely loved this sentence:
Very powerful. I’m sorry to hear about your fathers passing.
All I know, is that “this too shall pass.”
Glen Allsopp´s last blog ..5 Research-Proven Ways to Increase Happiness
I lost my dad 11 months ago. Because he was ill for a long time, I was able to come to terms with the idea of his death as it was happening. I miss him, but I am not suffering and I don’t feel heartbroken.
My approach to it is a bit different than how I hear other people describe their relationship to the dead. In my mind he is gone. I can’t talk to him, share anything with him, or get his advice. His personality is now completely inaccessible, no matter what I might wish for. I think that’s the hard truth that makes grieving so difficult: that people can actually come to an end.
That was what I found so striking about the whole ordeal. Life goes on just the same but suddenly one person is just utterly gone.
There are, however, monuments to him everywhere. Everywhere there are things he built and wrote, I find myself saying phrases I learned from him, and I notice more and more how much I am like him.
In that sense he is still present, but I think it would be unbearable for me if I didn’t think of him as being truly gone. I think sooner or later we have to really say goodbye to people who die, whether it’s when they die or sometime down the road. It is possible to suffer forever if we never let go. I don’t know when that is for you, but I’m sure you will know it when it comes.
David Cain´s last blog ..The List
Well, David… you bring up an interesting point. I’ve always assumed that is “easier” to think of lost loved ones as still here with us in some way, so it doesn’t feel so final and absolute. But I guess it all kinda comes down to what you believe… the old, “Where do we go when we die?” question.
We each have to decide where we fall on the issue (in fact I wrote a whole post about that), but I really believe we don’t “go” anywhere or disappear altogether, we just change forms. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, it just changes from one form to another. So, although the body’s life ends, I believe the spirit’s life never does.
In addition, you have all the reminders that were left behind when loved ones die… phrases, monuments, memories, etc., but at the core, I believe there’s MORE than that. I believe my mom and dad’s energies are as alive today as they ever were. I’m not saying YOU, or anyone else, should believe that; but it is important for each of us to figure out what it is we do believe.
Anyway, I want to thank you for presenting an alternate (more final) view because I’m sure there are others who feel that way as well. Every way of dealing with grief is completely valid and appropriate for each person.
I’d love to hear even more examples from other readers.
Thank you guys for all your thoughts. Tears just welled up at all your heart-warming words. I am usually such a private person (in terms of my personal life that is) but I can feel a healing sharing my loss with you. It is amazing being across the world from each other and still just being human connects us all. Thank you again, and lots of love to you all.
Hey, Rosina! I’m so glad you’ve decided to comment, so the others can “meet” you and know who they are talking to… sort of.
I have found that it can be so healing to share our troubles with others, particularly if they are such warm, loving, and compassionate souls as the Q4B tribe. This place here?… it’s like group therapy every day.
If someone said something that really resonated with you, click over to their blog… get in touch with them. All of them love being able to help in any way they can. Believe me, I’ve had my share of leaning on them for support.
Huge hugs and lots of love to you!!!!
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Hi Lisis. I also believe we only change forms, I’m just not sure what that means to the personality involved. But I can only speak from my experience. My dad, as the complete, animated person I knew him to be, is nowhere to be found. I don’t think he would hide from me. If a personality stays intact after the body stops functioning, then I don’t believe I can interact with it any longer. I have no idea what happened to it or its energy or constituent parts. That’s just what happened, as I perceived it.
I think the key in any case is to come to terms with what we actually experience. Beliefs are, after all, reality to that person. If someone experiences a feeling of the absence of that person after they die, that absence is what they have to come to terms with in order to recover. If somebody perceives their loved one as transitioning to a nonphysical form, that transition is what they must come to terms with.
Having talked to other people who have lost relatives, it seems to me that some people believe what is most apparent to them, and others profess to believe what they would like to be true, despite having doubts.
I guess what I was getting at is that our culture very much denies death, and it is quite possible to become attached to a more palatable explanation than one honestly believes. It may bring comfort, even as it prevents acceptance and prolongs suffering.
I have no idea what happens to those who die, but whether it is a transition of forms, or something else, there is a distinct finality and abruptness to death which can be difficult to accept. As long as we’re courageous enough to be honest with ourselves about what we believe, we will be on the best road to recovery.
David Cain´s last blog ..The List
So true, David… so true. I love that last sentence of yours!
This whole conversation reminded me of a quote from Lemony Snicket:
“It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.”
There is definitely always a strong feeling of absence, no matter what we believe ultimately happens. That is the “Loss” that is so hard to adjust to. No matter where they are now… we know they aren’t HERE, with us, as they were before.
Change is always a little difficult, and that change… getting used to life without someone we love, is real tough. Thank you so much for sharing your take on this issue.
Both my parents are dead and it will always be the practical little things that I miss and the fact that my most trustworhty fans are no longer there.
My parents were a save haven, as long as they lived I felt there was a safety net that could catch me.
Losing that safe feeling took time, missing those little physical things took time too.
Allowing yourself to grief, for how ever long that might take, allowing yourself to give your parents a place in whatever form you will find.
Take your time, go with your own feelings and I have given up on thinking that there is a recipe on how to do it that I must follow. I only pick what is useful and try it.
It is good to talk and it is good to take time to harvest their love.
Now I am at a stage where I can harvest their love, their memories and our good times. That keeps them alive for me and is an outlet for my love for them that is still there.
Lots of love to all of us, dealing with losses, Wilma.
wilma ham´s last blog ..Forget unfair and luck, integrity is what counts.
“He is still alive to me. I still feel his presence.” That’s a feeling that I think is bound to grow. I’ve found for myself and also in speaking with others that it seems that sadness tends to be displaced over time by an increasing awareness of all the ways the person has influenced us and a real sense of their incorporation into our own lives and character.
Reading this letter, what I only say to the writer is to let the time deal with. I haven’t gone through, so have no such feeling or painful emotion. In my life, some terrible happenings or painful moments finally fade away slowly as time goes, even if sometimes diappear incompletely, but partly. As a result, please find a way (share this with your lover and friends, like this letter) let all your sorrows go out and treasure up your happy memories with your father deep into your heart. And at some moment, some memory section jumps back into your mind. That is good cause you used to possess.
I love my parents, especially my mother. It is just her who creats me. They are alive healthily. I wish they keep fit . The death of them never goes to my head. What I want to do and ahve been doing all the time is to make their life comfortable and happy as much as possible. If they leave me one day, I hope they pass away naturally with peace and I will positively continue the rest of my life with momeries of them.
Rosina,
Death. It’s something I have a hard time getting my arms around. Maybe part of that’s because I don’t want to. I don’t want to think of the finality of it all. Yet, when I do think about death, I also think much about life. Eternal life. In some fashion, I believe very deeply that life doesn’t end when our physical bodies leave this earth. I really believe in there being something beyond. And for me, there really is much comfort in that thought. That said, I haven’t lost my parents – they’re both still here on this earth. So to say that I can understand…well, I can’t fully. And I don’t think anyone can, as no one has been in your shoes for a lifetime and known the experience you’ve had with your father. So, I encourage you to be “okay” with these feelings you’re having. They’re real. And they’re you. And however long it takes…that’s the right amount of time for you.
And thank you for sharing so honestly here in this space Lisis has created.
Lance´s last blog ..The Evolution of Our Heart’s Desire
Oh my gosh, I don’t have any firsthand experiential advice to give, but I do have lots of love and positive energy to send to the person who’s struggling with the loss of their dad, and really anyone who is grieving. I thought your advice was so gentle and nurturing, and it’s what I’d want someone to tell me if I was in those shoes.
Your love flows far and wide, and affects every bit of energy on this planet, Lisis. I’m thankful to live in such a world.
Megan “JoyGirl!” Bord´s last blog ..It’s a Jungle Out There
Hey, guys… I’m really thankful that several of you who have NOT experienced the loss of a loved one are also choosing to participate here. I feel like these conversations help those of us who have lost someone feel less alone in our pain, but also, this helps the rest of you start to understand a little about what you will go through some day. It is, after all, inevitable given the nature of things.
The main thing I think we all need to come away with is: appreciate those loved ones who are still in your life. I promise you, if they are not here tomorrow, you will regret every mean thing you ever said to them, and every time you ever took them for granted. Life should never be taken for granted. Every moment and every word and every action matters.
Well, I missed this yesterday, but you know it is deeply meaningful to me also, as I grieved the loss of my friend this summer. I don’t know as I have much more to add, as you and others here have written so beautifully. I will say that my own experience with it is that death is a transformation, and an individual stays with you, although in a different form.
Thank you, Lisa. I just wanna send you a Huge hug, because you had to deal with this quite recently. I’ll be thrilled beyond words if some of this helps you as well.
Thanks Lisis for sharing those Healing words….
I had the experience of losing my father 12 years ago…. There have been moments i have wondered…. “where is he?”….. “does he see me?”…. “does he see my joys?”… struggles?”. What is on his mind…. concerning my life?
These and many other questions…. i have asked myself. And i miss him greatly. I have missed him on the mountaintop and in the deepest of valleys and everywhere in between…
There is one thing i have learnt to do whenever those thoughts seem to overwhelm me….. i stand before the mirror and look in my eyes….. i see him everytime… he is not apart from me… nothing is ever lost. I have really not lost my father for such is an impossibility in my world.
Hi, Christopher!
I’m sorry you lost your daddy… I know it’s extra tough for a young man to mature and define himself without that guidance to either model yourself after, or rebel against! You are so right to find him still within you. Also, if you have kids, you will see your parents (and yourself) reflected in their eyes… proof that we all live on in more ways than we can fathom.
Thank you for sharing your story here.