Coping with Father’s Day
Jade Lorimer
What am I going to do without him? Why did this happen to my dad?
These questions occupied my thoughts continuously in the weeks and months after my dad took his last breath at home on Monday 9th March 2015. My first Father’s Day without him came 3 months after and the only piece of advice I want to give anyone reading this is to not put any pressure on yourself with how you’re ‘supposed’ to feel on the day or any day for that matter.
This coming Father’s Day will be the 7th without my dad and each year I’ve felt different to the next. I feel like I should be well seasoned by now to know what to do and how to feel, but that’s an unrealistic expectation when it comes to grief. It’s important to accept and allow yourself to feel whatever emotions come naturally, depending on what part of the grieving cycle you’re in. It’s an emotional rollercoaster, it’s not a linear process - some emotions can surprise us, and plans don’t necessarily have to happen. You may also feel a variety of emotions on the day too, that’s completely normal! I have experienced heart wrenching tears in the morning to laughter and love by the afternoon.
The first Father’s day without my dad was a particularly dark day. Given the short period from his funeral to the day itself, I think I was holding out (and dreading) for the day to come from the moment we said goodbye. I remember waking up in tears, feeling entirely empty and in pain. I spent the morning in bed by myself looking through photos - as a family we had a quiet afternoon at home just the three of us; me, my mum and my brother.
The second year, the day before Father’s Day a horse named Glen Moss (my dad's name was Glen) placed third at Royal Ascot. My friends who bet and won delivered a bouquet of flowers the following day with their winnings. They will never know how much that kind gesture helped that day.
The years after have, at times, been easier... I don’t know whether it’s time or simply that we’ve grown as individuals and learnt to live without him. I am more resilient and I have more endurance to navigate the day without him, but as the day approaches it’s hard to avoid that same sense of dread that they aren’t here for us to spoil with love, gifts and laughter.
Do what’s right for you.
If there’s one thing I’ve learnt, it's not to compare yourself with others and listen to how you are feeling. For some, the approach may be to follow the same Father’s Day traditions they used to have; for others it’s being alone and having ‘you’ time whilst listening to their favourite band. For those who are incredibly fortunate to have a loving family, it may just be an ideal opportunity to spend quality time with them. My brother now chooses to spend half of the day with his girlfriend and her dad, who has been part of his life for 10 years now - and that’s perfectly okay too.
Last year I decided to write down all the things I had learnt and experienced with my dad which made me so proud to be his daughter. The exercise helped to make me smile, albeit with a few tears, and reminded me of the amazing man I had in my life for 23 years.
After undertaking some incredible coaching last year and now surrounding myself with the amazing trustees at Its Time, I have finally accepted the loss of my dad. I don’t feel guilty, I feel incredibly grateful to call him my father, so this year I will be raising a glass with my family to celebrate the wonderful bundle of life that he was.
I want to conclude this with the same advice I started with. There is no wrong or right way to act and feel this Sunday, but I ask you all to try and avoid doing something you are not comfortable with doing. Grief emphasises control, and trying too hard to control how you’re going to feel on the day can be ineffective and damaging. So, be kind to yourself this weekend and remember that there is always someone who is willing to help.
