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Writer's pictureStacey Farris

The Anniversaries We Don't Love

I debated whether or not I wanted to use my fragile energy today to write a blog post, but I decided it was another way for me to honor my Dad.  The death date of someone you love can be such a strange experience.  It marks the passage of time without that person, which you’d think would get easier the more months or years that go by, but it doesn’t (grief is subjective so if you’ve experienced something different, that’s ok too).  The biggest lesson for me over the past two years has been learning to live with opposite emotions at the same time.  No longer “all or nothing” but, rather, “both.”  Experiencing grief and joy at the same time and often (or any other combination of feelings).  I’ve had traumatic flashbacks while also laughing and smiling in the next moment.  One does not crowd out the other - they both exist inside my heart and I suspect they will for quite some time. This is how we can go on (not move on).  This is how we can focus on the life we still have to live (and be excited about it) while also feeling absolutely heartbroken. 


I’ve also learned that there are some common threads that seem to exist among those who have experienced a great loss in their lives.  Some of these things include:


  • Worrying that you or other people will forget something about your loved one - how their voice sounds, what their facial expressions were like, what they smell like, what their laughter did to your heart.  This is why having videos and photos are priceless.  I wish I had more. 

  • Feeling a deep sense of being separated from the person you’re missing.  I have had so many moments of urgency to find my dad.  I think this one is the worst for me because I know he’s not anywhere I can get to, at least not yet. 

  • Wanting desperately to get a sign from your loved one, even if you hesitate to believe that’s possible - even if you don’t believe it, you really really want to. 

  • Feeling their absence at times of great sadness or great joy in your own life and wishing you could go to them to share, get advice, see their face when you tell them great news…

  • Thinking a lot about what they won’t be there for - weddings, graduations, holidays, birthdays, vacations.  And then pulling yourself back to thinking about all that they were there for and feeling so completely grateful for those moments. 

  • Feeling much less fearful of death (again, subjective) or much more fearful of it

  • Developing major anxiety about losing someone else you love - that feeling of “waiting for the other shoe to drop.” I think this is especially prominent if the loss was sudden and unexpected or traumatic. 

  • Feeling like there is unfinished business - things you wanted to say, questions you still had, moments you still wanted to share

  • Having experiences where you are overcome with profound feelings of love and feel a great connectedness with life, other people, your loved ones who have passed, nature, etc.

  • Developing even greater empathy and compassion.....but maybe after a period of complete numbness. (I will admit that I went through a period where my empathy basically died along with my Dad. For awhile I could only hold space for my clients, which I've always found quite easy and natural. But for the rest of the world (aside from my son and husband), I was unable to feel much of anything and was unable to be much to anyone. I am a giver in relationships and for the first time ever in my life I just...couldn't. In many ways this was good because I learned that not all my relationships were reciprocal and perhaps I had allowed myself to give at my own expense. Death has a way of showing us some tough shit.

  • Moments of spontaneous joy and utter bewilderment that you are alive!!

  • The list goes on....if you have a unique experience, please feel free to share in the comments!


I’ve been thinking a lot about how I wanted to spend this 2 year anniversary for my Dad.  I knew that I needed quiet time to reflect (and writing this has helped) and time at home just to “be.” I went back to bed this morning and just laid there and let myself feel sad.  I have watched videos of him and looked at his photos today.  I’m listening to some of his favorite songs (He loved Billie Jean by Michael Jackson) and I did a little dancing in my kitchen.  I’m considering naming a star after him (did you know you can do that?!) and in some ways I think he would be like “Why the hell would you do that, mister?!” but I also think he would get a huge kick out of it.  I talked with my Mom and Sister and knowing I’m not going through this alone helps.  I'm also thinking a lot of my friends and family who have also lost someone they love and how the holidays are especially hard.  Grief really does connect us all as humans and it makes the journey of it not feel so isolating (even though we don’t wish it upon one another).  No matter what I end up doing today, I know that my heart is going to be cushioned by focusing on all the best times with my dad and gently boxing up the things I’d really rather never have to think about again.  My Dad was one of my very favorite people on this planet. Nothing but unconditional love between us. A pure and simple relationship. I am eternally grateful for him.




“Put a candle in the window

'Cause I feel I've got to move

Though I'm going, going

I'll be coming home soon

Long as I can see the light” - CCR


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