Personal Reflections on Grief: Remembering My Father Eight Years Later
Saturday marks eight years since my father passed away. I didn’t plan on sharing it publicly. But the truth is, he’s been on my mind a lot this week. I’ve carried the mini rough hewn cut out photo of him in the wallet part of my smartphone since Sunday night. The photo is cut out of his driver’s license–before he stopped driving. This week with his deathiversary (the anniversary of his death) and it being Veteran’s day, I’ve thought of him, our relationship and his life. Partly how being a military veteran changed the trajectory of his life–he never rode on a plan except in the military–that was his ticket to the world and he rode it then.
And now I can’t call him on Veteran’s day anymore or any other day…now that he’s gone. Not that I called much, but knowing he was there–knowing that people are there…available…makes a difference–even if you don’t particularly connect. It’s a piece of what grief and loss are about (as well as endings and not being able to write more story with them or share life with them). Last year I wrote a piece called, “It was nice knowing you were there (alive).” Maybe one day I’ll share it. It doesn’t qualify for entry into the Pullitzer prize for poetry, but my thoughts all the same and it served my purpose of expressing feelings I had about change, loss and my own connections and disconnections.
Losing Dad wasn’t my first loss. I’d lost my grandparents (all of them) earlier and various uncles and aunts followed. I’ve been to funerals, wakes and celebrations of life…even graveside services. My father was my first parent loss. I admit to still processing this experience 8 years later–maybe I’ll always be processing it. I think losing a parent can be like that. Most of us get a limited supply of parents. 😉 Some get less than two; others more. In my case, I can see now how his passing marked a new chapter—a journey through grief– that I hadn’t walked before.
LMFT Megan Divine (a marriage and family therapist) counseled clients going through grief. She shared that didn’t get it until her husband unexpectedly and tragically died swimming. The education to the heart and its sensitivity come when we have our own experience with grief can be an expensive education. My own grieving process has led me down paths I never anticipated: reading a number of amazing books on loss (some of which I’ll reference here), turning to my journal for solace, joining a support group and eventually becoming a professional grief support group facilitator myself (and let me just say how much I love the members and look forward to our get-togethers and discussions!). Through it all, I’ve uncovered surprising insights about grief that I hope might resonate with others who have felt the weight of their own losses (whatever the type).
Grief can be isolating, confusing, and, at times, overwhelming. It can also go underground waiting for us or pop up like a long missing zombie (showing up in our lives when we thought it was over, gone and buried). In the years since my father’s death, I’ve come to see that grief is also something we can navigate especially when we don’t do it alone and find a community of people to walk down the proverbial Camino de Santiago with. If you don’t know what the Camino de Santiago is, it’s a spiritual pilgrimage. It’s sometimes referred to as the St James Way. Last year over 446K people passaged this nearly 500 mile trek across Spain, France and Portugal. While there’s a very real sense that you walk the Camino de Santiago AND GRIEF alone, you also walk it with others–you aren’t the only one walking it at this time. I’ve had a friend take the Carmino de Santiago with a group a few years back. I learned more about The Camino de Santiago when the small but mighty grief group I lead watched “The Way” starring Martin Sheen. This movie, directed by Sheen’s real life son Emilio Estevez, is about a father whose son died unexpectedly on the trek. Sheen (the father) takes the trek with his son’s ashes to spread them along the way and we watch his journey. This 2010 movie brought lots of discussion as to what our own grief journey has been, whose been our companions along the way and what the terrain has been like so far as we continue to hold memories of our lost relative, partner or friend.
While grief isn’t something we “get over,” (contrary to the popular belief held in American Western culture!), we can learn to carry it in a way that feels manageable and meaningful. Early on in grief we can navigate some of the potholes we may fall into–we explored that in the grief group, during many discussions of Megan Devine’s work, It’s Ok That You’re Not Ok (which consequently, I loved–it seemed we all found it helpful). I’ll share some of the lessons I’ve learned along THE WAY (not the movie ;-), for anyone who might be struggling with their own grief or supporting someone else who is.
1. Grief is Not a Linear Process
One of the biggest myths about grief is that it follows a clear, linear path: shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. While Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’s stages of grief gave people a framework for understanding loss, real-life grief rarely unfolds in tidy steps. For me, the grief over my father’s passing ebbs and flows like waves, sometimes swelling unexpectedly with triggers as simple as a song, a place, or even a specific time of year.
In my work with others who are grieving, I’ve learned that the most helpful approach is not to expect a particular order of emotions but to embrace the unique, unpredictable nature of each individual’s experience. It’s okay to feel stable one moment and broken the next. Grief is a constant work in progress.
2. Time Changes Grief, but It Doesn’t Heal It
When my father first died, people would often say, “Time heals all wounds.” Eight years later, I don’t think time has healed anything; instead, it has changed the way I carry my grief. The pain is no longer as raw or overwhelming, but it still exists, like a scar that flares up every now and then. Over time, I’ve found ways to live with it, but I’ll never “get over” losing my dad—and that’s okay.
For those newly experiencing grief, I encourage you to be wary of time-based expectations. There’s no expiration date on grief, and even years later, it’s natural to feel moments of sadness, longing, or even anger. Over time, we just learn to integrate these feelings into our lives rather than expecting them to disappear.
3. Grief is a Multifaceted Experience
Grief isn’t just about sadness; it can bring up a multitude of emotions, from anger to relief, confusion, guilt, and even moments of joy and it affects your relationships. One of the biggest surprises for me was how many complex feelings surfaced, not only in my grief over my father but also in witnessing others’ grief. I felt guilty about the times I didn’t spend with him, regret over the conversations we never had, and, oddly, some relief that he no longer had to suffer in his final days.
The full spectrum of these emotions can be overwhelming, but it’s helpful to remember that all of them are valid. No feeling is “wrong” in grief. Acknowledging and exploring each emotion, rather than suppressing it, has been crucial in my own journey and the work I do with others. Writing about these feelings in my journal has allowed me to process them, gaining clarity over time and realizing how deeply intertwined grief is with love, regret, and memory.
4. Grief and Love are Inextricably Linked
If there’s one thing that has stayed constant throughout my journey, it’s the realization that grief is, at its core, an expression of love. I miss my father deeply because I loved him and I love myself. This may seem obvious, but embracing this connection has allowed me to approach grief with a sense of reverence. Rather than viewing grief as something to “overcome,” I now see it as an enduring bond with my father.
In the support groups I facilitate, I encourage others to find their own ways to honor this bond. Some people find solace in creating a memory box, writing letters to their loved ones, or engaging in an activity that reminds them of the person they lost. Honoring the love that remains can transform grief into something beautiful, reminding us that while our loved ones are gone, our love for them never dies.
5. Grief Teaches Us to Be Present
Losing my father taught me an invaluable lesson about the fragility of life. The people we love won’t be with us forever, a reality that most of us intellectually understand but don’t often live by. Grief has made me more present with the people who matter in my life, more attuned to appreciating moments as they come. I’ve learned that “someday” is never guaranteed, and each day offers an opportunity to create memories with those we love.
This perspective shift didn’t happen overnight, and I didn’t fully appreciate it in the immediate aftermath of my dad’s passing. But over the years, I’ve noticed that I cherish my relationships more deeply. I try to show up more fully for the people I care about and am less likely to take time together for granted.
6. Community Can Be a Lifeline
Grief can feel incredibly isolating, even if we are surrounded by people who care about us. In my experience, joining a grief support group was a turning point. I found comfort in being with others who understood what it was like to lose someone they loved. We didn’t have to say much; simply sharing space and acknowledging each other’s pain was healing. The camaraderie I found in these groups was a reminder that we don’t have to navigate grief alone.
Leading grief groups has been a humbling experience, too. I’ve witnessed people find connection in each other’s stories and offer support in moments when words feel insufficient. It’s shown me that the weight of grief can be shared, even if it can never fully be lifted. If you’re grieving, I’d encourage you to seek out a community, whether through a formal group or even a single person who understands. Connection has been one of the most healing aspects of my own journey.
7. There’s No “Right” Way to Grieve
In our society, there can be pressure to grieve “properly”—to cry a certain amount, to act as though we’re okay after a set period, or even to “move on.” But every person’s grief is unique. I’ve seen people process their loss through art, exercise, travel, spiritual practices, and writing, among countless other ways.
There is no universal timetable, no correct path. What worked for me might not resonate with you, and that’s okay. As someone who has both grieved and guided others through grief, I can’t stress enough the importance of honoring your own process, however it unfolds. Grieving authentically, in your own way, is the only “right” way.
8. Grief Can Bring Unexpected Gifts
As strange as it may sound, grief has brought unexpected gifts into my life. I have a greater sense of empathy for others who are grieving, a deeper appreciation for life’s fleeting moments and a clearer understanding of what matters most to me. My father’s death forced me to confront difficult truths, reshaping my outlook and values in ways I wouldn’t trade as well as accepting what that relationship was and what it wasn’t. Taking the pieces I want to keep from it and moving away from the pieces I choose to leave behind.
Today, as I remember my father, I feel grateful for these lessons, even as the sorrow still lingers. Grief is a powerful teacher. Though its lessons come at a great cost, they deepen me into a bigger and better person.
In Conclusion
It’s been eight years since I lost my father, and while I’ve come a long way, the journey of grief is one that I’m still on. I think I always will be. Through books, journaling, community, and reflection, I’ve found ways to carry my grief—and, in turn, my father—with me in a way that feels meaningful.
Rachel Naomi Remen says, “Only other wounded people can understand what is needed, for the healing of suffering is compassion, not expertise.” I’ve certainly found that to be true.
If you’re grieving, I hope you can be gentle with yourself, allowing the process to unfold in its own time. Remember that grief is an expression of love, and through it, we honor those who have shaped our lives in ways words can never fully capture. Others are grieving today and sometimes grieving with strangers who become companions can help to revisit and carry the losses we experience in life as well as acknowledge them long past our society’s expiration date for grieving.
Invitation. If you’d like to connect briefly about your own loss and grief, I welcome it. I’ve helped hundreds navigate grief and loss through community and connection amidst people who get it: https://MediatorMikki.as.me/SupportGroupConnectionCall10min
Author Bio:
Mikki McGill, known as “Mediator Mikki,” is a gifted grief support facilitator aiding hundreds through separation, divorce and grief. Founder of Great River Mediations, Mikki helps families navigate emotional, relational, and financial complexities with compassion and expertise. A Certified Divorce and Transition Coach, Certified Transformative Mediator, CDFA, podcast guest, and blog writer, Mikki helps individuals through transition and grief, and couples to navigate the divorce process to craft smart, amicable divorce solutions that preserve resources and promote peace, healing and recovery. Whatever loss you’re experiencing, connect, follow and like us for other valuable content: LinkedIn and Facebook
Sources:
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The Way. 2010 movie. See it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4n6SKu-lA2Q
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Quote by Rachel Naomi Remen. Naomi’s website to learn more about her work.
(651) 399-2222 | info@greatrivermediations.com