Dealing with Grief around Holidays

I lost my father on Christmas Eve about 5 years ago now and things still don’t feel real. We all have our vices and unfortunately for my father, his was drugs which ultimately led to his demise. A week prior to Christmas Eve, we were arguing about said vice. He never acted like himself when he would take whatever he did to help with his underlying depression. Whether it be xanax or “sleeping pills.” His response to me was “I’ll stop when I’m dead.” That sentence still haunts me to this day.

On Christmas Eve before I head into work, we get into another argument and I said things I’d ultimately regret; if only I knew those would be the final words my father would hear from me. I head into work and got off around 9pm. Instead of going straight home like I usually do, I went to hang with my friend who I worked with at the time and just smoked and vented about the ongoing situation. As I’m dropping my friend off to his house around 11, I get a call from my sister which is weird being that she’s in another state and we don’t hold contact that often. She tells me my father has passed. In that moment I rushed home as fast as I can, only to arrive and see my home flooded with detectives, police, emt, and yellow tape. I was told I wasn’t able to go to a certain part of my house where his body was as they were conducting an investigation. One of the police officers was giving me advice as if he were talking to his son and told me not to look when the medical team was rolling my father out of my house on the stretcher. Knowing that was the last time I’d ever see my father, I looked anyways. I regret it in a way, the image of my father in a black body bag on a stretcher will stick with me forever.

I live with many regrets. I wish he could see all that I have accomplished since then. I wish he could witness everything I’m going to do for myself. I know he’d be proud of the man I’m growing up to be and sometimes it’s all I’d want to hear. I regret the things I’ve said to him in anger. I regret not going home right away, I feel nothing but guilt. There’s no preparing yourself for the pain that comes with losing a parent. Maybe I could have prevented it if I was home. He wasn’t perfect by any means but when he was himself he was an amazing father.

Fast forward to present day, it’s almost Christmas Eve again and I already have been in my head the whole month. What went from my favorite time of the year became the most dreadful. My father was the one that brought my already small family together during these times. There’s no more tradition with him gone. There’s no motivation to celebrate the holidays. You’d think 5 years later I’d be able to handle things better. Being upset isn’t going to bring my father back. But I can’t act as if things are alright because they aren’t. It may not be conceived as healthy but I heavily isolate in these times. In my job I work with a lot of families. It’s gonna sound selfish but sometimes it pains me to see everyone happy with their fathers and large families because it serves as a reminder to what I no longer have. I don’t know how to get over this feeling. I feel lost without his advice and life experiences. There’s things that I know he could’ve helped me with and certain situations where I say to myself “if only my father were here.” I wish I could take back the argument we had being that was the last image he had of his own son.

It feels as if I don’t spend every Christmas Eve grieving my father’s death, then I can’t express that I miss him with every part of my being. Thank you for reading.