I lost my father, whom the family lovingly referred to as “The Doug,” in January of 2022. At that point, he’d lost his own spouse about a decade prior.
He certainly had his struggles with grief in the wake of her passing, but the family noticed that he stayed active, even adventurous at times. He spoke to me a number of times about this.
He talked about how he’d not expected to lose the love of his life when he did, and that while it was difficult, it also made clear to him that he should take the opportunity to go on living his life. We don’t know how much time we ever have left. He made it clear that enjoying his life, even in his unanticipated circumstances, was the right thing to do.
We’re lucky to know numerous people dedicating themselves to enjoying the life they have left. Our friend Kate Manser wrote an excellent book on this very topic called You Might Die Tomorrow. Like The Doug and like us, she found herself at an unexpected crossroads in her life when in the span of six months, three of her friends died. Her intentional route into recovery and acceptance is a gripping and inspiring read, and it has been a big influence on me as I move forward through child estrangement.
Give yourself permission to live. Give yourself permission to set this burden aside, even if only briefly, to smile and love yourself.
Remember that feeling happiness is not a betrayal in your grief journey.
Take a moment right now to be grateful.
In our peer support group this week, we discussed how the abuse and neglect that some of us grew up with instilled a resilience that can actually be helpful as we work to cope and heal moving forward.
Learning to heal and cope after child estrangement may come in many forms. You may draw upon your own life-changing experiences, or you may start to notice small, simple details in your life that will help you feel grounded and capable of moving forward.
Finally, remember that you are not alone. Our first experience with estrangement began in 2019 via my wife’s biological child. I am a loving and empathetic husband (and hopefully a good counselor), and nevertheless, there were limits on the extent to which I could truly grasp Renee’s challenges in coping with this.
In 2022, my own biological child went no-contact, and from that point on, I understood in ways that only shared experience can create.
You aren’t alone as you go through this. Join us please, even if you simply wish to listen and observe. This is a safe space with no judgment. This is a space in which you can find support from peers who understand as no one else can due to our shared experiences.
