My Dad passed away six months ago today. It is hard to make sense of what happened and how to feel in the moment. But looking back, grief is not what I expected.
We all hear grief has five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I used to think the 5 stage framework is linear, and one progresses over time. But it is far from the truth. If you unfortunately have to go through this, I hope my journey so far can help you to some degree.
Everyone’s situation is different. I am close to my Dad. I haven’t seen him for four years, and we talk every other week. One day, I received a call from Mom about him falling, unconscious, and in critical condition. I flew back the same night. He never regained consciousness and passed three weeks later.
Here are the things I experienced and learned.
The most important thing to know about the Five Stages is they don’t come in particular orders, don’t have timeframes, can overlap, and can go back and forth multiple times. Although it sounds painful, the Five Stages concept is tremendously helpful to be conscious of what you are experiencing and teach you how to live without loved ones.
Each stage is like a camera filter applied to everything you see. The world can look colorless, full of hope, or at times melting like Dali’s painting. The truth is there is nothing much you can do to remove the filter, but knowing the filter exists makes it easier to seek help and cope better.
Depression
Right after coming back to real life, I was confronted with an unexpected numbness, the difficulty of feeling emotions. The joy of seeing friends and having good food became plain. All the projects and todos from work were just things, with no pressure and anxiety attached. Hobbies, habits, and routines were less meaningful than before. I often told friends that I felt numb, I wanted to feel things, even the painful ones. It lasted for months.
I later realized that numbness is the best way to just get through the day. It is a protection mechanism. Without it, the emotions, memories, and visions would cripple me from getting back on my feet. Looking back, I am amazed by this much-needed mechanism and grateful for the numbness that eased me into normal life.
Denial
My father’s passing was sudden yet long — it was an accident, but there were almost 3 weeks of life support before the machine pushed the last draw of air to his lung while we held his hands. I dressed him, wept by his body for the last time, and buried him in a place we knew he would love. I never denied the fact that he was gone, but I denied, more times than I can count, how I feel, what I need, and who I am.
It was in the numbness that my logical brain declared that I was fine now. I told everyone to treat me as normal, business as usual, and nothing has changed. Little did I know the ‘world filter’ was still fully on, and thus nothing made sense. Normal tasks made me anxious, genuine help made me doubtful, and anything could trigger me into a whirlwind of emotions.
While it was happening, I still denied the idea that I was not ok. It has certainly gotten better over time. I started to ask for help at work, from friends, and seek therapy. Putting myself in others’ shoes, I am not sure how people can help me. But at least I know the denial filter is fading, and I am healing to accept how I feel, what I need, and who I am.
As a footnote, my mom had a different Denial journey, and I may write about it later.
Anger
Anger is the worst because it hurts more people you love. It is the worst also because it is not logical, needs no reason, and comes out of nowhere. I was angry at my Dad for not taking care of himself, angry at doctors, hospital, city, country, and the world for not having better medical care, and angry at myself for selfishly being a world away. It was excruciating when I couldn’t stop the angry thoughts. It hurts even more when it comes out on other people.
I was angry at my manager during a call but oblivious to what I said, how I said it, and even what was it about in the first place. I later learned that I was not respectful, and couldn’t stop lashing it out when my manager tried to stop me. I felt immensely guilty afterward but couldn’t make sense of where the anger came from because my denial filter was fully on. Not denying what I did, but denying I was not ok. The filter made me powerless — how do I explain being angry for no logical reason, and make up for it?
I later came to peace that it didn’t need to be logical. I was wrong, and need more time and help to prevent this from happening again. Coming to peace with that took me months, but I can now face it and make amends for damaged relationships.
Anger is usually towards the people you love and feel safe around. I knew this before but truly grokked afterward. Now I try to ask myself: is it how you want to behave with someone who cares about you?
The journey continues, with all five stages tossing and turning. I am sure I will have more bargaining and acceptance to experience and write about.
Telling about the experience is healing. Like Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, who introduced the concept of the five stages, said: “Grief shared is grief abated”. Hope my experience shines some light on your dark days.
And to quote Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, whose books helped me tremendously:
“Death is but a transition from this life to another existence where there is no more pain or anguish. That knowledge helps me, in my own losses and grief, to know that those I care for are okay. That I will see them again. And those I love now, I will look after when I am gone. I will laugh with them and smile at them. And if they didn’t believe in life after death, I will make funny faces at them and say, ‘Ha ha, we are here and okay.’ I know that the only thing that really lasts forever is love, and I will miss so much about the life I had and the people I have lost.”