Father’s Day without your father.
Note: This post was published in 2017 as I faced my first Father’s day without a father.
This will be my first Father’s Day without a father. As I sat down to write this post, I really had no idea what I was going to say, much less how to say it. I felt at a loss for words. What was I supposed to write about as this day, my first Father’s Day without a father approached?
What could I possibly say to help someone else who is missing her/his dad not just today, but every day?
At first, I wasn’t going to even attempt a Father’s Day post at all. Not this year. It felt too hard. Undoable even. At the same time, I had to write one. How could I not acknowledge this day, this year, this loss, this grief?
Grief is hard. Writing is hard. So it only makes sense that writing about grief is hard, too.
Yes, Father’s Day this year will be hard, but then again, it won’t be, or rather it won’t be much harder than the Saturday before it or the Monday that comes after it. In a way, every day is Father’s Day now, a day to remember the dad I had and the dad I now miss.
When you’re limping along through grief, there aren’t necessarily stand-out days of grief, at least not so much for me.
More often, it’s the ordinary moments and days that are hardest.
It’s the little things, the big things and the in-between things. It’s all of it.
Sometimes, I think it would be easier to not have had such a wonderful dad for as many years as I did. Sometimes, I think fewer memories would make grieving easier now.
When I start having thoughts like this, the next one that generally follows is something like, Nancy, what a completely ridiculous thing to think, much less say or write.
My dad died early in the morning on a stormy Saturday in late July. (He was alone, a fact that saddens me, though I’m pretty sure it was what he preferred. At some point, I will share about that).
Update: I shared about it in EMERGING (Part 2, Loss, “I’m an Orphan Now”), should you be interested in reading more.
Now, any rainy Saturday morning is, in a sense, a grief anniversary. A reminder.
In fact, any ordinary happening on any ordinary day often is as well. Every memory about my dad is a reminder.
Every reminder brings with it another visit to loss.
But every reminder is also a visit to love. And love is always worth the pain that often comes with it.
This Father’s Day, I will remember my dad, but I do that every single day on the calendar. As others have said, grief is the calendar.
You might think that is a very sad thing to say, and in a way, I suppose it is. But not to me. For me, this truth is lovely and comforting, because tremendous grief means there was also tremendous love.
If you are missing your father (or someone else) this Father’s Day, whether it’s your first Father’s Day without him or your umpteenth, please know you are not alone.
And perhaps more importantly, when you are missing your dear one on the Monday after, or on any ordinary moment on any day of the week for some mundane reason, you’re not alone then either. I hope knowing this helps you just a bit.
Grief is part of what unites us all. And love. Grief and love.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads and all the men, dads or not, who love and nurture children.
Miss you, Dad.
Love you forever.
Tell me something about your dad.
What is one grief reminder (for any dear one you miss) for you?
Do you miss someone this Father’s Day and every day?
A NOTE FROM NANCY: Order my new book EMERGING HERE. I wrote it to help others emerging from life-altering challenges — including loss of a loved one. Because your hard matters too. Besides Amazon, EMERGING is also available at most online booksellers such as: BAM, IndieBound, Bookshop.org, Barnes & Noble, and others.
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Kate
Saturday 15th of June 2024
This will be my first Father’s Day without my dad. He passed away 04/27/24 from a heart attack. I found your page after googling “First Father’s Day without dad” to get some sort of support, words of wisdom or anything to help me cope. He was my last living parent as well. I lost my mother to pancreatic cancer 10 years ago, when I was in my 20’s. Thank you for sharing your story, I will be ordering your book on Amazon. -Kate
Nancy
Sunday 16th of June 2024
Hi Kate, I'm sorry your dad died. And your mom died 10 years ago. That is a lot of pain you've had to navigate. Losing our parents is one of the hardest things we go through. Just today I saw someone on Instagram mention how it changes everything. I can't remember the exact words now, but they stopped me in my tracks because the words were so true. If you do decide to order my book, I hope you find it meaningful. Thank you for sharing about your dad and mom. I appreciate you. Take care of yourself.
Mariana Yeremian
Wednesday 15th of June 2022
I came across this when searching “how to spend fathers say without my dad” My name is mariana and i am 23 years old. I lost ny daddy September 12th 2021..my dad was only 49 years old and passed cery unexpectedly. But it seems that i found myself lost. Trying to future out what to do on a day that is dedicated to such a special man i call my dad. Ive been dreading every holiday every thing without him.. i try to look for answers to how do i go on without my daddy…well the truth is i dont think anyone knows. We just continue…i find myself doing things my dad used to do, acting like him, talking like him. Every day i think of him and as the time goes by, no it doesnt get easier, you dont move on( dont let anyone lie to you) you just continue for yourself, for your family and mostly for him..my dad was ny first love and i will forever be searching for his beautiful soul….and if you have your daddy still here.treasure every single beautiful moment and hug them extra tight for me. Thanks for reading and im sending some extra love to anyone who is trying to get through each day…we will make it
Nancy
Thursday 16th of June 2022
Mariana, I'm so sorry your dad died unexpectedly. I understand that lost feeling. You're so right - no one knows how to navigate forward. You just continue. Your grief is still very raw, so be kind and gentle with yourself. I agree, you don't move on. You learn day by day to weave the experience into your very being. Living your best life is what your dad would want you to do. Figuring out how to do that is the hard part. But you will do it. I hope you have some people in your life you can lean on, vent to, cry around, share with or just sit with. I'm glad you found this post. I have others on grief that might help. I'll be thinking of you on Father's Day and beyond. Thank you for sharing about your special dad.
Brittany
Wednesday 8th of November 2017
I lost my dad, a year and a half ago. It was (and still is) hard. I never met him. I am 18 now. He died when I turned 17. I felt abandoned, like, I was going to meet him when I turned 18. How could he do that? They said he drowned while he was drinking. But it wasn't suicide. I didn't know how to cope with it. Plus, on the day of his funeral after they found his body two weeks later, I met my brother (age:8) and my sister (age:15). It was so shocking to see that we all look like him. I didn't know how to deal with that either, so I turned to alcohol and drugs, I told myself that if I did that, I'd somehow feel closer to him like that, what I didn't realize was that I hurt everyone around me. With my smoking and drugs and alcohol. I saw my life cracking and falling down around me. So, I quit the drugs and alcohol, but not the smoking, I'm still working on that. So, next week, I am going to a Grief and Abandonment treatment centre to get some help. For myself and everyone around me.
Nancy
Wednesday 8th of November 2017
Brittany, I am sorry you didn't get that chance to meet your dad. It will always be hard. It's like you lost him twice. By that I mean, you were so looking forward to meeting him when you turned 18, and then that was taken from you too. I am glad to hear you quit the drugs and alcohol. They likely only masked your pain for a bit. Good for you for taking those difficult steps to recover. Great idea to go to a grief and abandonment treatment center for help. That is a big step and I hope that experience offers you some helpful guidance and support. You've been through a lot. Take care of yourself and thank you for sharing.
Beth Gainer
Thursday 27th of July 2017
Hi Nancy,
I'm sorry I've been away from the blogosphere for such a long time. Anyway, the first place I went was to your blog. I'm so saddened by the loss of your father, and grief is, of course, normal. Grief and love: they are intertwined.
My dad is alive, but as you know, he has dementia and is in a home for dementia patients. He still knows who we are, but I've been grieving for a few years now because he is no longer the person who was my dad. I don't even know him anymore. My dad is gone....in a different sense.
Thank you for sharing your grief so openly, with all its rawness, with us.
xo Beth
Nancy
Friday 28th of July 2017
Beth, I am sorry your dad has dementia. That's such a cruel condition and a tough situation for your family. It's very sad to watch someone you love decline, no matter what the cause. Thank you for your kind words about my dad and about coming to my blog first following your absence. We've missed you. Glad you're back. Thank you for your continuing support, my friend. xo
Lara
Friday 7th of July 2017
My dad has terminal cancer.. his health has really deteriorated recently and his treatment hasn't been working since the birth of my son in January. Sometimes I wonder if he was fighting it so that he could meet his grandson and be there for me when the little man was born and now perhaps a part of him is surrendering to the terrible disease. He gets his most recent scan results on weds..I fear that it may have spread again. Nancy your post about grieving a parent has really resonated with me because I am finding that it's easy to fall in to the thought pattern that because there's warning, because this person is fading before your eyes then maybe it'll be easier when they finally go. It won't be and hear another say that is comforting. I'm dreading the firsts..the first Christmas, the first birthday, the first Father's Day but yes as many of you have said every day will be hard.i'm glad that he has got to meet his grandson. Thank you to people like you Nancy who take the time to put together something like this that reminds people that they're not alone