Grieving by proxy

Sarah MG
Sarah MG
Aug 26, 2017 · 5 min read

Yesterday my father in law suffered a fatal heart attack. I’d love to say we were extremely close and that is why his death hurts but I can’t. Jeff was one of those larger than life personalities who treated everyone like family. I loved him very much but, like true family, he also drove me crazy. He reminds me a lot of my little brother. Like my brother, Jeff was the guy that can make a friend anywhere and seems to know everyone. He also was the guy that would take the time to spend catching up with old friends. The type of person that makes you feel important. Jeff spent most of his career as an HIV counselor, helping people navigate this terrifying disease and teaching them they can still live long healthy lives.

He had his flaws too. He was also one of those people that never really planned ahead well. Sometimes winging it worked out and sometimes it just drove the other people in his life crazy. He was also stubborn and prideful when it came to asking for help. I know there is a taboo to talk ill of the dead but it is the good and the bad that make you who you are. To not talk about all sides of a person is to forget who they were.

One of the worst dates, with my now husband, spiraled out of control because Jeff was being impatient. We had plans to go to Hemp Fest together but Jeff and my brother in law didn’t want to wait 10 minutes for us and went on ahead. As an introvert, ANY street fair is not my idea of fun but this was the first time I got to meet and spend time with Jeff. So in our attempt to meet up with them, things went horribly, horribly wrong. It ended with us lost in the middle of Seattle without phones or transportation. I got food poisoning and spent a couple hours in a 7–11 restroom while my husband used the pay phone to call the one local phone number he could remember. His friend then had to get hold of Jeff to come retrieve us. We did make it to Hemp Fest at one point where I ended up punching a stranger in front of a cop. Needless to say, I’m not allowed to go to street fairs anymore, but that is a story for another day.

Christmas Day 2016

Still, I have so many wonderful memories of Jeff. Another time he got impatient in downtown Seattle he was with my 7-week old son. He got bored with his wife and her sisters shopping and wandered off with the stroller. My mother in law found them both around the corner at a park. Jeff was sitting on a bench cuddling with his tiny grandson. Through thick and thin Jeff loved his family. He loved being a grandfather. I have so many photos of sweet moments playing with the babies.

At the end of the day, I can only imagine the grief my husband is feeling right now. It feels inappropriate to even post something on social media. It feels like it is not my place to share and that makes it feel like it is not my place to grieve. Grief doesn’t give a damn about your relationship with a person. I’m still haunted by the loss of someone I casually knew in college. He drowned in a rafting accident over a decade ago and I still hurt to think about it. I told my husband last night the hardest part about losing someone is accepting they will never walk through the door again.

It feels unfair to lose someone because you feel like they’ve been stolen from you, stolen from the world and all the good they could have done. I don’t think anyone is ever ready to lose a parent. Jeff had his first heart attack a couple months ago and the doctors said it is a miracle he survived. They call that type of heart attack a widow maker because less than 5% of people survive it. Jeff was extremely lucky and we were lucky to get a couple more months with him. In that time my brother in law got married and Jeff got to be there. Jeff got to spend time with his sons and his grandchildren one more time. And I will forever be thankful for those moments.

My husband left early this morning to fly to Florida to be with his mama. He just couldn’t stand the idea of her crying alone on what would have been his parent’s 39th wedding anniversary. Last night I barely held it together to be the rock my husband needed. The hardest moment is when he had a breakdown he couldn’t find a saved voicemail from his dad so he could hear Jeff’s voice one more time. I got to the point I was so tired and overwhelmed that I was sobbing at the thought of my husband leaving. It was one of those moments when depression is just such a dick. I knew I was just making it harder for my husband. He wanted to be with his mama but hated to leave his family.

As I sat in the dark watching my son sleep I calmed down and realized my husband needs to go to Florida. He needs to be with his mama. Not just for her benefit but I think it’s going to be best for him too. They need to grieve Jeff together and I need the space to grieve in my way. Even without my husband here I feel I’m grieving by proxy. I’m grieving for my two-year-old son who will only remember his Papi through stories and photos. It makes me angry. I was able to grow up with grandparents in my life and I want that for my son. I’ve been lucky enough that my grandparents are still in great health. My grandmother was there the day my son was born. My husband lost his last living grandparent when I was pregnant with our son.

I don’t know how long it will take to heal. Do you ever recover from losing a parent? For now, it feels okay to just embrace the grief. Maybe I can channel my energy into other things and not let the depression feed on my feelings. It doesn’t matter if it is my place or not to express my grief. The truth is I have the right to grieve how I need to. For me, that is putting my feelings into words. It helps me process and move forward. What about you? Have you ever lost someone and felt like your grief didn’t count? How do you process your feelings?

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Sarah MG

Written by

Sarah MG

Mother, writer, gamer, baker, cat lover. These are my stories of living with depression and raising a child on the autism spectrum.

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