Grief and Grace

Me and my dad - 1974ish

My dad died yesterday. We knew it was coming. He was almost 89 years old and had been sick for months. He hated living in a nursing home - hated the food, hated the loneliness, hated the loss of his independence. By the end, he struggled to swallow and was so thin it was painful to see him. The tall man who used to carry me to bed was a hunched skeleton. It was time. 

My brothers and I were in the room when he passed. No loud beeping machines, no one rushing into the room to do anything. He never really woke up that day and just … stopped breathing. And that was it. 

You are probably wondering why I’m posting this particular topic on my blog for my health coaching business. It’s simple really - death is a part of life and no matter how well we take care of our health, how much exercise we do, how nutritious our meals, how clear our conscience … we will all age and eventually pass on. And unless we become hermits away from society, we will all witness death or care about someone who dies. We all have to face it. 

I didn’t have a good relationship with my dad as an adult. I barely knew him anymore by the time he had to go into the nursing home. The same was true for my brothers. And for a lot of reasons, it fell to me to take care of my dad. And because I hate confrontation (and so did my dad), I never really made peace with him. He never was one to take accountability for his actions anyway. 

So figuring out how I feel about all this is a project. In a way, I feel more free to remember the good times because I no longer have to remind myself of how emotionally unsafe he was. I grieved the loss of the father that I loved as a child a long time ago. But there’s still grief, sadness, a slight emptiness from not being needed by him anymore. 

As a health coach I tell my clients to feel their feelings, listen to their bodies, and take care of themselves. But what does that mean in actual practice? What if your feelings, like mine, are complicated? What if you aren't sure how to listen to your body? What if taking care of yourself feels like another chore in a long list of chores?

My advice to myself today is - accept the situation. Lean into the confusion and don’t try to make it all make sense. Let the feelings come as they are and go with it. Even though I might not feel like it, I’m making sure to eat, drink water, take breaks and get plenty of sleep. I eat and I get water even when those things feel like a chore. Because they are essential. Whatever else needs to get done, will get done in due time. This is what it means to give ourselves grace. This is what it means to give yourself the space to grieve and feel whatever other feelings come up. If you feel tired, take a nap. If you feel extra anxious energy, take a walk. If you feel like you're going to explode, scream into a pillow. That's what it means to listen to your body.

One more thought - you don’t have to be grieving the death of a parent in order to give yourself grace when you’re struggling with complicated relationships and emotions. Giving grace allows you the space to think more clearly about the situation. It can help you be proactive instead of reactive. It helps get you out of "fight or flight" and into a calmer, healthier space.

Are you dealing with anything in your life where you could give yourself grace? What does that look like for you?