My dad passed away on Jan 11, 2025. He was 74. It was a very sudden and unexpected passing. I had been back home the week before. He was fine. While he did have a little cough, I didn’t think much of it. In fact, my mom texted our family chat saying my Dad’s cough got better a couple of days after I left.
I’ve said in different ways on my blog that life is short or that life is fickle. And while I still hold those truths, experiencing my father’s death has deepened and changed my understanding of those words. It’s hard to explain. Grief itself is hard to explain, but I want to share my journey — where I am now, how I’ve been coping, and how I’ve dealt with my dad’s passing.
This blog post is more personal than most, but I also want it to be a resource for anyone experiencing the loss of their dad or parent.
I’ll start with some words I want to say to my Dad. Then I’ll share about how I have dealt (and continue to deal) with the grief of losing him. I will update my experiences as time goes on.
I also apologize in advance if things don’t sound as flowy or succinct.
Dear Dad,
As I write this, my body feels cold. My mind is cluttered with words. It hurts to think about you and everything I want to say. I miss you. And I’m so confused as to why you left so suddenly and soon. I’m so angry that you decided to leave Mom alone. I’m so sad that you’re gone.
For some reason, one of the first memories that always comes to mind is when you told me about the time you spooked a bird so much that you heard it hit its head on the patio cover. That was the hardest I’ve ever seen you laugh, and it still brings a smile to my face to know that you found so much joy in that moment.
I still remember you taking the family up to San Jose and Santa Barbara almost every Christmas to see your side of the family. I always looked forward to seeing my cousins.
I still remember calling you in college when I accidentally shocked my laptop so hard that it turned off. I was so frazzled and worried that I had broken the laptop you bought me. But you calmly just told me to wait a couple of minutes before trying to turn on the laptop again. When it powered back on, I was so relieved.
You did so much for me – more than I will ever know. You taught me what consistency looks like. You taught me how to write. You taught me how to fix and maintain my own car.
My favorite memory of us was definitely working on replacing the brakes on my Prius (photo above). It was just us two guys in the garage, getting our hands dirty and getting to work. We struggled a bit because the brakes were so old. I still remember you taking out some old grease from your cupboard to put on the caliper slide pin – it looked like it had solidified. I was really worried that the grease wouldn’t work, but it did. This job took the entire afternoon to finish. I’m pretty sure you could’ve done it faster, but you took the time to explain to me how everything worked.
I’ve been struggling with what love looks like and what love means to me. And I think, for the first time, I understand it because I lost you.
I love you because I wanted to give you the truck, machinery equipment, and travel experiences you always wanted but would never give to yourself.
I love you because I wanted to grow old with you and take care of you when you got older.
I love you because I wanted to give you grandkids that you can play with.
I love you because I wanted you to see the beauty of who God is.
I will miss celebrating your birthday and Father’s day with you. I will miss being able to watch movies, both old and new, with you. I will miss being able to travel with you. I will miss the bread and chicken you made. I will miss making you laugh because you were my favorite person to make laugh.
You never really showed how happy you were when I called you every weekend while I was living in Arizona. But mom told me how happy you looked when we talked over the phone.
I miss you. I love you. Rest in Peace, dad. You deserve all the rest after working so hard all these years.
We aren’t perfect people
My dad often responded with “We aren’t perfect people” when he and my mom would get into arguments.
I confess that I tried to fit my dad into the picture of what I thought the perfect father should be. But now, seeing my dad gone and realizing how imperfect I am as a son, I finally understand how great of a father my dad was.
He wasn’t an expressive person. He didn’t teach me how to control my emotions, but he did teach me how to write, which translated into me journaling in order to express and manage my emotions.
He was a picky eater, which often limited where we could eat; however, my dad cooked humble foods like bread and chicken, both of which got my family and me through elementary, middle, and high school.
He had become really stubborn over the last couple of years, which frustrated my mom and me many times, but he did some of the most menial tasks, like cleaning the house or doing the dishes after dinner, without being asked.
He didn’t socialize much with others, but if others needed help like fixing a cabinet or toilet, he’d be there. He wouldn’t ask for any money for the fix.
Thank you for being a great dad.
My experience dealing with my dad’s death
You know how some people can recount the details of their own life during 9/11? I can still recount the details of that night when my father died.
It was close to 10:30PM at night. I was stretching in my living room before going to bed. Then I got a call from my Mom. In a frantic voice, she said my dad was unconscious on the floor. My heart sank. 30 minutes later, I get another call from the police officer saying my Dad had passed away. I couldn’t believe it.
I quickly called my sister to let her know and we both flew home the next day to be with my Mom. I took an Uber home from the airport.
First week
Day 1
I got to my parent’s home at 4:30PM. It felt like I was coming back home like normal, but I also knew that it wasn’t normal. Even though the death of my father hadn’t hit me yet, I felt a little nervous because I knew that once I opened the front door, I would be entering a house suffocating with silence and heavy in grief.
I rang the doorbell and was greeted by my aunt. She was taking care of my mom until my sister and I arrived. We exchanged hugs. I dropped my backpack and walked over to my Mom who was walking over to hug me. She immediately broke down. She started saying “why why why did this happen?”. All I could say is “You’re okay” and “We’re here”. I don’t know how long we cried for.
Before dinner, I hooked my laptop to the family T.V. and started playing some slow music. I didn’t want to eat in silence. My sister and Mom ended up crying during dinner. I held it in because I knew that if I started crying, my mom would cry even more.
After we finished dinner, we took a walk around our neighborhood for some fresh air. It felt nice. We didn’t cry either.
When we got home, I resumed the music.
We were all pretty tired from crying so much so we didn’t do much more for the rest of the night. We all took 3mg of melatonin and prepared for bed. I laid down where my dad slept and stayed with my mom in her bed until she passed out.
I definitely felt a little nervous going to bed because I didn’t want to sleep in a quiet house. I felt like if I turned everything off, the quietness would overwhelm me.
Days 2-7
After the first day, everything blurred together. Days felt like weeks. My mom, sister, and I were stuck in denial – we knew my dad was gone, but we just couldn’t accept it.
The only good thing about each day was that all of us were busy doing different things. My mom was on the phone with church and relatives to break the news. My sister and I tackled unfinished tasks our dad left unfinished like changing the car oil or making bread. We also made a to-do list and kept adding to it.
My mom was a mess…and understandably so. She sighed heavily a lot, screamed and broke down randomly, and was just like an empty human shell. She mentioned several times how she really wanted to follow my Dad (aka kill herself). That worried my sister and I a lot so we made sure that she wasn’t alone doing thing.
Our mom even told us that she needed to be treated like a little girl – reminded to go eat, to go outside for some fresh air, and to sleep. My sister and I didn’t blame her. We just did what needed to be done. We also gave our mom 6mg of melatonin since she had trouble sleeping. It helped a little, but not much.
Unless it was a phone call from her parents, my Mom ignored everyone. My sister and I ended up doing most of the talking to friends and neighbors.
Eating and working out was a bit easier for my sister and I. Personally, I knew that I had to take care of myself in order to take care of my mom. I ate a lot of Nerd’s rope and drank a lot of milk teas to help me cope with some of the depressed feelings.
Music played constantly on the TV. If it wasn’t, then it was Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them movies because they were the only positive movies I had in my Amazon Prime library.
Anytime I felt like crying, I did it in private because if I cried in front of my sister or Mom, that would make them breakdown.
I had my angry moments as well, but they were short. I also vented privately.
I asked close friends and mentors to pray for my family and I.
At some point, going to bed got easier and waking up got harder because every time I woke up, I kept wishing that my Dad would be in the living room, waiting to greet me. After waking up, I would sit in bed and doom scroll my phone because I wanted distract myself from the truth that my Dad wasn’t there.
At the end of the week, my family and I visited my Dad’s body at the funeral home’s mortuary. When I touched his frozen face, that’s when it hit me – my Dad was actually dead and that he was never coming back.
Second week
Everything still felt like a blur. Waking up was still the worst part of the day, and going to sleep was the best part of the day. I slowly weaned myself off of melatonin while we still kept our mom on 6mg.
I started spending time journaling each day about my feelings and thoughts over my dad’s passing. Those journaling sessions were difficult – the weight of my thoughts made them exhausting and recalling happy memories of my dad was painful. I felt a sinking feeling in my body every time I started journaling. I ended up using this question guide to help me journal.
I remember one of my journaling sessions was about guilt I felt after my dad died. For every guilty feeling I had, I wrote a thankful feeling I had for my dad. By the time I was done, I had more thankful feelings than guilty ones. That journaling session was extremely therapeutic.
My mom’s mental and physical state hadn’t changed much. She still didn’t want to see anyone except for my sister and me (and her parents, but only when needed).
We eventually got sick of hearing Fantastic Beasts in the background so I just put on music and camping videos on the TV.
My sister and I kept chipping away at the to-do list. We made good progress.
Unfortunately, the county hadn’t signed the death certificate yet, so our family couldn’t do much about transferring assets like 401k, pensions, and bank account titles. We spent more time indoors during the second week. If we went outside, it was either to grab food, water some plants, or take a walk.
The hardest part during the second week
We knew we had to tell our mom’s parents that their son-in-law passed away. The hardest part wasn’t breaking the news — it was dealing with what would come next. They’re 94 and 91, both with high blood pressure issues. News like this, age their age…well, the odds of something bad happening felt much higher than anything good.
To add more potential oil to the fire, we had to tell them the weekend before Chinese New Years. Who would want to celebrate Chinese New Years by sharing news that your son-in-law died?
When our Dad passed away, we lied to them whenever they asked about him. We said stuff like “Oh his brother is here to meet with him” or “He’s too sick to join us for dinners”. I could tell it hurt my mom the most. But when your own son-in-law, someone you’ve seen almost every day, doesn’t show up for two weeks, people start to question you more and more.
We talked to our cousin, who was a nurse who had experience with taking care of the elderly. She said calling 911 was a good idea if things were to go south. But she also reassured us that people who live up to my grandparent’s age aren’t strangers to death of family members. They know what it feels like. So, the chances of them having a complete breakdown or a heart attack were not as high as my sister and I had feared.
When my sister and mom broke the news to our grandparents, they were initially confused. They didn’t understand how my Dad passed away so suddenly. Just like our cousin said, they didn’t overreact or breakdown. Even my grandmother told my sister that our Dad was probably in a lot of pain and needed rest.
Like most parents would, my grandparents started worrying about my mom. They’ve constantly asked her to have meals with them so she wouldn’t have to be alone.
Third week
I was back in Tucson. Since we couldn’t hold the funeral, my mom didn’t want us to sit around in the house — she feared that being away too long from work might affect our jobs (aka we would lose our jobs).
My sister stayed an extra week since she could work remotely. We both agreed this was a good idea; it allowed us to gradually transition away from our time with our mom. We knew she needed space to mourn alone, but we also wanted to make sure she was in a “stable” enough state to do so without causing concern.
I called every day to check in with my mom, which she really appreciated.
It took a couple of days to readjust to my work schedule. I had to take some melatonin again to help me sleep.
I didn’t feel as sad as I was back home because work and studying kept me busy. A part of me convinced myself that my dad would’ve wanted me to focus on my studies instead of thinking about him all the time. I did still have moments everyday where I thought about my dad.
I also started reading A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. I journaled a little bit about my dad before going to bed most nights.
At this point, I was well into the acceptance stage of grief, but I knew that my grief would most likely resurface after the funeral.
Helpful sources for dealing with grief
Books on grief
Here are two books that I believe can help you with grief. My sister read the first one and told my mom and I about it as we walked around the neighborhood in the morning and at night. I read the second one.
- The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
- A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis.
If there’s anything I’ve learned so far, it’s that everybody handles grief differently. The best thing to do is just to listen to somebody whose grieving. Don’t try to give them advice.
Bart’s story about his dad’s passing on YouTube
Here’s a YouTube video about somebody talking about losing his dad to suicide. His experience about dealing with his father’s death comforted me because I wasn’t the only one who lost his father abruptly.
Grief Support on Reddit
This was honestly a great source of support for me the second week. There are so many people who share their stories on losing their dad. It really made me feel less alone because there’s somebody out there who understands my pain. I also put up a post about my dad’s passing and people provided their kind words and condolences. I’d really recommend this subreddit if you’re going through the loss of a loved one.
