On Jan. 2, 2023, my world came crashing down. After receiving a frantic call urging me to rush to the hospital, my family and I spent three agonizing nights by my dad’s bedside, listening to my mom’s cries and holding her hand as we waited for his final breath. When I noticed he had stopped breathing and realized he was gone, the feeling was indescribable. The pain of losing my dad was unbearable, but it was even worse witnessing the rest of my family crumble under the weight of their grief.
Prior to my dad’s diagnosis on Sept. 19, 2022, I had high hopes for the year ahead. I was twenty-three and felt like things were finally falling into place. Just months before, my dad had helped me move into my first apartment, and I was making progress both personally and professionally. However, everything changed when my dad got sick. Suddenly, my reality shattered, and I was left wondering how to cope with such a devastating loss. What I didn’t anticipate was that grief also involves mourning the person you were before the loss. As a young adult, this earthquake of grief came at a time when I was starting to find a sense of stability in my life.
Before losing my dad, death was something that happened to elderly people who had lived long, fulfilling lives. I never considered the possibility of losing someone as significant as my dad. My concerns revolved around self-discovery and finding my path, not the impact of losing someone so dear. I quickly realized that being one of the few people in my age group to experience such loss left me carrying the weight of grief all on my own. While it was comforting to connect with others who had gone through similar experiences, none of us had answers to the questions that plagued us. When could we be happy again? How do we move forward?
In my desperate search for answers, I turned to Google during many sleepless nights. I hoped to find guidance and someone who understood. However, all I found were resources for children, teenagers, or spouses. I couldn’t understand why there was such a lack of support and acknowledgment for the unique impact of grief on young adults. It became clear that I would have to navigate this journey alone. The first question that consumed me was, “How can I live a long, happy life when time seems to make things harder?”
The realization that I may spend decades grappling with my grief is terrifying. The milestones I had envisioned my dad being a part of, like walking me down the aisle or meeting my future children, will forever be tainted by his absence. I’m still learning to accept that the world I knew before my dad’s diagnosis will never return. Seeing fathers and daughters walking together tugs at my heart, and achieving things that would have made my dad proud, like building a table or changing batteries, is bittersweet when I can no longer share those moments with him.
I’m still coming to terms with the fact that grief doesn’t simply go away with time. It leaves a permanent mark, and healing is a complex process. I don’t have all the answers, but what I have learned is that allowing myself to feel the pain, no matter how excruciating, is essential for moving forward. On my darkest days, when I pretend to be okay and keep myself busy, I’ve realized that true progress comes when I let myself collapse under the weight of loss. It’s in those moments that I feel the most growth and healing.
During one tearful visit to the hospital, I asked my dad what lesson he wanted me to remember when he was gone. Holding my hand, he told me to give people second chances and strive to be a good person, knowing that mistakes are inevitable. Those words have become my guiding principle. Though my dad may no longer be physically present, his influence remains strong. Losing someone so integral to your life during a time of immense change is a unique challenge. However, I hold onto hope that one day, the good will outweigh the bad. I believe that this loss, although unfair, will shape me into a better and stronger version of myself.