Jay here!

Ah, Father’s Day. The day full of awkwardness. Father’s Day has always been weird for me because it is so close to my mom’s birthday. When I was a kid, I would remember my mom’s birthday but forget Father’s Day; it’s just how I’ve always been. To this day, I still forget Father’s Day to some extent, but that only makes it worse when I remember. I’m quickly reminded that this holiday exists with a punch to the heart when there’s advertisements of kids and their fathers. I see those, and suddenly I’m very aware of who’s missing this June. The emails, mail, social media and television advertisements do not take into account all the people who cannot celebrate Father’s Day with their actual fathers.

This week, my mom graduated with two associate degrees on her birthday, and I’m very proud of her. But that also means that all our attention had been focused on that, and her birthday ended this Wednesday… Now there is nothing left to distract us from the looming holiday this Sunday. I must say, I enjoy Father’s Day a lot more when my mom’s birthday (June 17) is on the same day as Father’s Day and we can just celebrate her instead.

For the most part, Father’s Day is usually still a good day. For me, it feels mostly awkward when everyone is posting about their dads on social media. I feel if I like anyone’s Father’s Day post, I’m reminding them that I can’t celebrate with my dad and I put a damper on their little celebration. Plus, just seeing the pictures is a reminder of what I don’t have anymore. Even off the phone and television screens, there are still fathers and their kids everywhere you look. I see them and I’m immediately filled with sarcastic, snarky energy. I guess with all the memories I forget, the numbness after my dad’s death, and the sarcasm that possesses me now; I’m a pro at avoiding the pain of the loss of my dad.

Anyways, I just feel there is no better word to describe a fatherless Father’s Day than awkward. Everyone posts about everything their fathers do for them, and I’m just sitting here, deflecting and thinking “Gee, wonder what that’s like”. Usually I just avoid social media, or really just humans, on this day. My mom and I go to Disneyland, put our phones on airplane mode and don’t check our phones all day. (Fun fact: the rides at Disneyland eat up your phone battery, so putting your phone on airplane mode when you aren’t using it prolongs your Disneyland battery life). I know there are still lots of people at Disneyland, but I still love going because there are no nuclear families there on Father’s Day! There’s very few dads who wake up on Father’s Day and say, “I know what I want to do today! I want to go to Disneyland!” The park usually contains sad fatherless families like us, and the crowds are very mild. I’m disappointed we can’t go to Disneyland this year, but I know we’ll figure something else out.

Between the awkward, snarky energy covering up my aching heart and now Disneyland being closed, the other bummer about Father’s Day is its unpredictability. If you haven’t already noticed, I’m not exactly perfectly in tune to my emotions. I take after my father: shove all your negative feelings deep down inside you and go to your grave not feeling any of it. I know that’s no way to live because you’re not really living if you’re dead inside, and I’m working fixing because I’d rather not be a graveyard of unfelt feelings. I’ve actually improved a lot in this area. I learned how to cry! I didn’t know my tear ducts had those water-making capabilities!

Still, emotions are something I’ve really had to work on, and they still don’t come easy to me (I know, shocking considering the stereotypes around teenage girls!). This makes grief days like Father’s Day, or really any wretchedly emotional holiday, unpredictable for me. I may feel fine leading up to the day, but then on the actual day I’m overwhelmed with grief and just want to cry. Other times, the week or so leading up to the holiday are heavily weighed down by grief and sorrowful anticipation. Then the holiday comes, and it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can never tell how I’m going to feel on the actual day, and it’s freaking annoying. I don’t know if I’m going to feel numb, empty, relieved, or fine this Father’s Day, and that’s what drives me crazy. I have no idea what feelings are awaiting me this Sunday, and I’m not particularly thrilled to find out. If I had a choice, I’d just make this a second Mother’s Day for my mom; it’s obvious she deserves it.

I’m sure my mom and I will figure out something to do together on Sunday, and whatever happens, I’m sure we’ll be fine. I do wish a happy Father’s Day to all the remaining dads, and I hope they have a fun day with their families. My mom and I will just be on the outside looking in with our broken hearts, but honestly that’s okay. I guess you just get used to the throbbing pain of your broken heart at some point, or maybe I’m just too out of touch or numb right now to feel the full extent of it. I will try really hard to be in touch with myself and actually feel my emotions this Father’s Day, whatever they may be. If you’re grieving the loss of a dad this Father’s Day, I feel you. This sucks, but we can only try to feel the full extent of everything on Sunday so we can feel better when the whole ordeal is over on Monday. I recommend not having access to your phone so you aren’t bombarded by images of happy families. Just do whatever you feel like doing on Father’s Day, whether it be fun plans or cancelling plans to stay home and feel your emotions.

Shell here!

Another big day is coming and its one we rarely talk about with anyone: Father’s Day. The day seems so weird for us, and of course it always feels like someone is missing. Jay and I both joined the dead dads club in December of 2014. Her father died from pancreatic cancer and mine died two weeks later from a massive stroke.

I am sure what we feel around Father’s Day is what some people who have lost their mom feel around Mother’s Day. It feels weird and sometimes I wish we could just ignore the day and move on. However, with grief, no matter how much you want to ignore a specific day, our bodies and subconscious always remind us. Plus, there are commercials and advertisements in the mail for Father’s Day.

I am grateful for our last Father’s Day we celebrated with both our dads. I had my parents over for dinner and the five of us had a really nice meal and enjoyed our time together. What is weird for me is that I knew that could have possibly been our last Father’s Day with Art, but I never dreamed it was my last Father’s Day with my dad. Even though he was older and I know that older people eventually die, I just never thought that was our last Father’s Day together. When I miss my dad, I always try to remember that day and try to remember his laughter. His laughter is slowing fading away in my memory and I am starting to have a hard time remembering what his voice sounded like. I really miss my dad, so with Father’s Day coming up, the grief becomes heavier. It is also hard because as a mom, I want to help my daughter with her broken heart and Father’s Day is just another reminder her dad is gone too. I cannot fix her pain, so every year I try to take her somewhere so we can enjoy the day together. The place she always chooses is Disneyland. Well, this year with covid and Disneyland being shut down, I have no idea how we are going to handle this day. There may be tears, there may not be tears. There really is not anywhere we can go, so we will have to have to find a way to cope with our grief during a pandemic.

Grief during a pandemic feels rough, but I know we are not alone during this time. I hope that if you’re reading this and living with grief during a pandemic, you know you’re not alone as well. Jay and I are with you in spirit. These little holidays of celebration are just as difficult as the big ones. I think most people who have not suffered the loss of loved one can’t fully understand the extent of our grief.  Our grief is real and really does affect our lives, especially during Father’s Day when our loved ones are gone.

My little tip for those of you who are going to miss your dads this Father’s Day: it’s okay to cry and it’s okay to not cry. If your favorite place is closed down, find something you enjoy doing but know that if you change your mind, it is okay. Sometimes Jay and I make plans and when the day arrives, we just do not feel like doing it; so, we cancel the original plan. 

We haven’t made plans yet for Father’s Day this year. I think deep down we are both trying to ignore it. We have done that before, and I can promise you it did not go well. So hopefully soon we will make plans for what works for us and then we will have survived another Father’s Day without our guys. Please be kind to yourself and do what feels right for you and nobody else. This is your grief, nobody else’s. You just do what feels right for you. This is your loss, and you need to protect it as you see fit. It is your day with your grief and nobody else’s; you call the shots on what you want to do.

Remember, we are hurting because we love them so much.

Be kind to yourself!

We are sending you much love and hugs during a difficult time!

Aloha and gratitude,

Jay and Shell