Lessons Learned from My Father’s Death

Today is Father’s Day. Half a year has gone by since my dad passed away. To be honest, I’m not feeling sad today. It feels like a normal day. How can I say that? Because I’m human and I’m honest. 

I started writing this post shortly after his death because there were a few things that became very very clear to me. Things that I’ve always known but couldn’t articulate or swept aside because it was obvious. These are the lessons I learned about life, ironically, from death.

I find the world of grief very difficult to navigate—I’m always uncomfortable around people who have lost loved ones because I’m afraid of offending, hurting, or angering them. Instead, I either shut them out completely or avoid the topic of death at all costs. But now that I’ve been on the receiving end of condolences, sharing my experience might help others navigate the painful, uncomfortable, and sometimes awkward situations with someone who is grieving. 

So, without further ado, here are the three major lessons learned from my father’s death, not in any particular order of importance: 

1. Time is precious. Cliché. Until you realize it’s true and it’s too late. 

There were so many things my dad wanted to accomplish before the end of his days. He wanted to be famous and to become a millionaire. At the time of his death, he was so, so far from his fantasy. Instead, he washed dishes, waited tables, and cooked a million Beef and Broccolis in Chinese restaurants around the Boston area for 20 long years. Only in the last 10 years, since coming back to China, did he have the opportunity to once again pursue his dream. And I am happy and relieved to say he lived his best life in his last decade. 

Even though he didn’t become rich and famous, my dad is still a legacy. His humor, his generosity, his songs, and his stories are priceless to the lives of those still living. The world might not know him. But not everyone knows Ricky Martin either (right?). 

Whether your priority is to spend as much time with your family as possible, to learn to tap dance like a pro or to sail the seven seas, do it. And do it soon, because truly, do we really know what tomorrow will bring?

We had 5 days between receiving my dad’s diagnosis and the day of his death. That’s it. 

2. If you love somebody, tell them.

My friend gave me a card years ago with that greeting, and the message has stuck with me ever since.

Seriously, people. Swallow your pride, your shyness, and let the honesty flow. It feels so much better than regretting your silence later on when it’s too freakin’ late. 

One of the greatest regrets of my life was the moment I rolled up the window and drove away without saying “love you” back to my dad. This was around 2015. Growing up, my parents and I always said that to each other. I don’t know why I didn’t say it back that day, but I remember feeling the pangs of guilt and regret and sadness even as the window was still rolling up. I think that broke something between me and my dad, and I’ll never forgive myself for it.

So, don’t do what I did. Roll that window back down and yell it out. “I love you! You are special to me and I want you to know that!!”

3. Grief is a very delicate and complicated thing to handle, both for the one who is grieving and for those in acquaintance with the one grieving.

In 2012, when my friend died in a car crash at the age of 24, I cried to my high school English teacher that I didn’t know what to do for the family. I didn’t know what to say or how to behave in their presence. He told me the worst thing for the grieving is to feel that their loved ones have been forgotten, so show the family you’re thinking of them, and that their daughter is alive in your memories. Not just now, but years down the road. 

From my own experience, I’ve learned that there are few comforting words in times of grief. But there are certain things that make me feel better. 

I get solace from people who have grieved, who know what it’s like. It’s comforting to know I’m not alone in this boat. It also makes me feel good when friends check in on me, even if it’s just a text to say hi. It’s reassuring to know I’m on their minds.

Messages I received from people I haven’t spoken to in years and from people I rarely engaged with, were some of the most heartfelt. It was partially because I was surprised to hear from them, but mostly because it felt good to know that my experience could touch even those not close to me. 

This woman I used to work across the street from and didn’t think liked me, for instance, sent me a very personal message upon my dad’s death that not only made me smile but reminded me that we never really know what’s on a person’s mind. If she had never messaged me, I would’ve continued to think I meant nothing to her.   

So, if you’re wondering whether or not you should reach out to let someone know you’re thinking of them, yes, you should. But do it only if you’re truly feeling for them. The generic “my deepest condolences” message on Facebook, though appreciated for the thought, doesn’t do much for the grieving heart.   

I don’t believe that people, at least those who matter, will forget my dad so I don’t feel sad about that. Might be selfish, but it feels worse wondering if people will forget about me! I mean, I know that my friends are thinking of me, but I don’t know unless they tell me so. 

To reiterate, whether you’re best friends with or are a distant acquaintance to someone grieving, let them know you’re thinking of them. Heck, even if they’re not grieving, send them a message to let them know they’re on your mind! What is there to hide?! There’s certainly nothing to lose. If anything, you’ll make someone feel loved!

But do it only if you mean it.

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I’m not sure if I’ve done a good job applying these lessons from death to my own life, but I am trying. I’m trying to spend more time with friends and family, and I’m doing my best to communicate my feelings, and to let people know I’m thinking of them, grieving or not. 

I hope this post doesn’t come off as grim on a day that celebrates one of the most important figures in our lives. I hope those of you whose fathers are around will pick up your phones, or better yet, drag your booties to be by their side. Let them know how loved they are. 

How I wish I could turn back the clock to roll down that damned window. I shut out this memory for a long time because the guilt hurt so much, but it feels good to share it with you now. Thank you.

And since I’m openly communicating my feelings now, I want you to know that I really, really appreciate everyone who takes the time to read the words I spend hours writing and rewriting. You are loved!  

Happy Father’s Day, everyone <3