How can I deal with the horrible death of my estranged father?
February 2, 2022 1:04 PM   Subscribe

My estranged father died in a horrible way after many years of real struggle and suffering. I am having a hard time processing it and am looking from perspectives from the hive mind. More inside.

My father died last Sunday at a hospital due to what we think was sepsis, caused by a large untreated wound in his foot. We will only know the real cause of death when the results of the autopsy are available.

He was a recovering alcoholic (he quit about 20 years ago) and had been living in a filthy room next to a bar and a police station in a semi-rural area of the city, and had been struggling with a lot of health issues lately. He had was waiting for hip replacement surgery, was a schizophrenic, and from what I understand, he was not taking his medication. He was living on government aid and had only just won a court case and received some money - enough to buy a house, but he was too frail to do that. I know all of this from my mother, who divorced him 35 years ago when I was just about 6.

Background: we went through a lot during the time we lived together, and the horrible memories of having to leave the house in the middle of the night to escape his drunken rages haunt me to this day. As a teenager, I was legally forced to see him regularly, and still recall finding him drunk early in the morning and not being able to even have a conversation about my life - my career choices, dating life, nothing. Over the many years I lived abroad, he wrote many letters to me and upon returning, I met him for the last time a couple of years ago. I was hurting a lot after getting divorced (from a man who behaved pretty much the same way he did to my mother) and I talked about how I thought the way life turned out for me had to do with his absence and the history between us. We just couldn't bond or find a way of having a father-daughter relationship, this had a lot to do with my inability to connect with him.

My mother kept in touch with him regularly. About 3 years ago, she tried to act as his legal guardian but it was just impossible to handle him. Even though she was out of the picture legally speaking (after all she has my 90-year old grandma to look after) they were always talking, and she was constantly giving him advice. Her cell number was everywhere - on the door of the place he was living, in his wallet...she was the only person she could trust. I believe she did that also as a way to spare me from having to deal with his affairs, and only occasionally did she let me know what he was up to. There was a legal case underway where I was being asked by the State to become his legal guardian, and despite all our history, I was discussing ways to provide financial support for assisted living and other alternatives with my lawyer. Sadly, we couldn't move fast enough to get to that point.

Last weekend, his situation got worse and he was experiencing all the symptoms we now know that typically precede a septic shock. On Sunday, he asked the neighbours to call an ambulance, and was dead 20min upon arrival at A&E.

As part of dealing with the post-mortem bureaucracy, we went to the place he was living and I was absolutely shocked that he was living in such a situation. Piles of unwashed clothes and filth everywhere, cockroaches and rotting food, with a mattress on the floor. His documents and all the important stuff left by the door - he probably had a feeling he was about to die.

Now that all of this has happened, I am trying to process a mix of feelings: a profound sadness that he had to die that way - nobody deserves to be in that situation. The feelings that perhaps I should have done something sooner in a more assertive way are also haunting me. But I just couldn't. Now I can see clearly how fragile and in need of help he was, while I decided to cling on to my resentments and traumas from the past. In summary, I feel that I failed him as a daughter just as much as he failed me as a father - and this is making me question everything about my own character as a result.

I am not sure what life is trying to show me with the horrible circumstances surrounding my father's death, and I am not here asking for validation of my choices regarding him, but I am having an extremely hard time processing this, or making peace with what has happened. I know there are lots of people reading this Ask who might have gone through or seen something similar, so it would be very helpful to read some perspectives. Thanks so much for reading this.
posted by longjump to Human Relations (27 answers total) 15 users marked this as a favorite
 
This has to be tough, especially since you had set things in motion to help him so shortly before he died. I know it's the askme norm, but I truly believe that a short run of talking with a therapist would be of great help.

Whatever you decide, my wish for you is to find peace. I hope it won't take too long.
posted by Dolley at 1:14 PM on February 2, 2022 [6 favorites]


I am so sorry and can't imagine what you are going through. It sounds like you and your mother were as generous and caring to him in life as you could be, given his personal difficulties and the pain he caused you. That is actually quite remarkable. And you have done him a kindness by even dealing with his affairs since his passing.

I know that it is easier said than done to let go of guilt, but I hope that you can. You did not fail him as a daughter and your inability to connect with him sounds very understandable, and painful. You managed a very challenging situation in the best way that you could over a long period of time. Again, I am so sorry and I wish you so much healing and peace.
posted by fies at 1:38 PM on February 2, 2022 [7 favorites]


I had an uncle with schizophrenia. It is a terrible disease; my uncle was abusive to his wife and kids, eventually was forced into a care home. They made him live in a healthier way and take medication and he was somewhat happy. I spent some time with the family, and it was a rollercoaster, not in a fun way.

Robert Sapolsky is a professor of Neurobiology at Stanford. His lecture series is excellent; the lecture on schizophrenia is compassionate and factual. You may be terribly raw right now, but I think it would provide insight when you are stronger.

As someone who was harmed by his disease during childhood, you can't take responsibility for his sad life and ending. I hope you and your mother can achieve some understanding and peace.
posted by theora55 at 1:39 PM on February 2, 2022 [20 favorites]


I don't believe you failed your father at all. Your father was an extremely troubled man whose dysfunction was so extreme that it was virtually impossible for anyone to help him or to take care of him. You did the best you could under difficult circumstances, and your mother did her best she could, and it didn't do any good. I'm sure there were others who tried to help too, to no avail. Much as we'd like to believe that every problem has a solution and every person can be saved, the truth is that some people refuse to cooperate with anyone who tries to help them, and/or have problems that society has yet to figure out how to address.

It's not a personal failing that you couldn't solve an irresolvable problem.
posted by orange swan at 1:40 PM on February 2, 2022 [57 favorites]


It may not be the right fit for you, and COVID-times might not be the time you want to seek out meetings, but: Al-Anon is an support organization for people impacted by somebody else's drinking. Parents, exes, whoever. You didn't put your father in the position he was in, and it's not fair to yourself to second-guess the decisions you made way-back-when. Can you offer your past self the kind of grace you would extend to a friend or family member in a similar situation? "That was a hard position, and you did the best you could. What can I do now to help?"

And I'll echo Dolley---I'm sorry you had this to go through, and therapy is rarely a bad choice in processing ... everything, anything, all the things. This would have been a challenging situation even if the world wasn't bonkers, but it is so that's even more challenging. Do you have a safe space to get that kind of support? Peace to you and yours.
posted by adekllny at 1:40 PM on February 2, 2022 [3 favorites]


I was estranged from my father who passed away almost exactly a year ago. His death had no impact on my life, practically, so the grief I experienced afterwards was WEIRD.

I took the full bereavement leave allowed by my work and took the time to experience my emotions and not put expectations on myself to feel nothing or feel specific things. Thankfully I had a therapist at the time so got to talk about it with her.

Most of my grief boiled down to not mourning the person, but mourning that I would never have the chance to have/build the father/child relationships you see in films, even though I am who I am and my dad was who he was, so even if we did have 2 more years or whatever, it’s pretty unlikely we would have changed/put in the effort to make that happen.

Processing his death mostly consisted of “wow, look at that emotion im having. It’s totally not rational. I’ll sit over here and watch it play out, then go back to my life.”

Take your time. Wait a few weeks to make any big decisions. It will be ok.
posted by itesser at 1:44 PM on February 2, 2022 [21 favorites]


What I’m hearing is how you feel you failed your own values of yourself - to be compassionate, selfless and giving. That you gave in to some self-oriented / self-protective mindset. Some self forgiveness is needed. We’re only human. We are all frail, you and your dad. In the future you may wish to volunteer at an organization supporting people with schizophrenia.
posted by St. Peepsburg at 1:54 PM on February 2, 2022 [3 favorites]


My situation wasn't as serious as you, but I had stopped talking to my mother for many years due to her alcoholism, and then she died 'suddenly' in her sleep Christmas morning in 2020.

I put those quotes are there, in there's a similarity to your situation, that it really wasn't that sudden. My mom's was living, but she had health problems due to alcoholism and a bout with cancer and just old age that 'suddenly' were too much for her body to handle. Nobody could have done anything about it; my dad, who was still living with her and caring for her, felt like if he had just checked on her while she was sleeping more often maybe he could have helped -- but I pointed out, if she was that bad that he had sensed he needed to check on her that much, the end was probably already close and couldn't have been stopped. Your father had some serious health problems which didn't stop him from getting around, but finally were too much for him. Whatever 20-20-hindsight that might have kept him alive shouldn't be a burden on you.

My mom had done some pretty horrible things; I had to reaffirm to myself that cutting things off was about self-care; I spent years trying to help her get better, but it wasn't anything I had the power to accomplish. Sure, 20-20-hindsight, you may have been able to improve his life, but that wouldn't necessarily have allowed you to maintain that self-care you did by cutting him off. You still have to trust yourself for doing what was right for you, not having sacrificed that part of you to make things marginally better for someone you likely couldn't change.

My mom, also, was not a horrible person -- she had done things which caused hurt, but that didn't make her a bad person. One thing I attach my feelings to is that the last time I saw my mom (dropping something off for my dad), not too long before she passed, she was actually doing OK, and I gave her a hug. That doesn't erase all the other baggage of our relationship, but it at least gives myself some closure to our horrible relationship. Her death was the end of the pain for both of us; me as the one still here lets me control how I see the relationship in retrospect. If you can find something about your relationship with your father that would be a better way to remember him -- keep that memory at the front, use that to remember him, not where he ended up, because where he ended up cannot be changed, but your perception of him can.

So, in summary: you are the one still here and can frame how you feel about this, there's no right way other than to find a way to not feel like you had responsibility in his death. I'm no psychologist or expert on this, I'm just a couple years past having to deal with the experience, and you asked for some perspective so I hope this helps.
posted by AzraelBrown at 1:56 PM on February 2, 2022 [11 favorites]


What I'm hearing is that he had a fatal illness. That kind of untreated addiction is almost always fatal, one way or another, whether by resulting medical illness or suicide or drunk driving or neglect of health or some other avenue. Eventually. And then schizophrenia on top of it?! Sounds like he beat the odds living as long as he did.

There was nothing you could do. Even if he had been kind, even if you had had some sort of affectionate relationship, there still wouldn't have been anything you could do. And as it happens, he wasn't any of those things, he was a dangerous man, and staying away from him was the right thing to do.

I'm so sorry for the hand you got dealt, here. You did the best anyone could with this, and you deserve a hug and a pat on the back for doing as well as you are.
posted by fingersandtoes at 1:58 PM on February 2, 2022 [11 favorites]


I'm so sorry and I wish you peace, first of all.

I am not a therapist and I have not been trained in mental health issues, nor have I experience in this; but the hunch I have is that somewhere in the midst of whatever he had going on, I do believe your father somehow understood that you were all trying to help. You said this:

His documents and all the important stuff left by the door - he probably had a feeling he was about to die.

To me, that suggests instead that he knew that all of that stuff was important, and he was putting it in a safe place that was separate from the rest of the chaos. In some way it had to be protected, and for the time being leaving it all right by the door meant that he knew exactly where it was and could lay hands on it just as he was leaving so he couldn't forget anything if he needed it. There was no way for it to get lost. It's a pretty rudimentary way of organizing things, yeah, but it looks like the beginnings of one anyway.

I honestly and sincerely feel that deep-down, your father knew you were trying to help and trusted that you were helping as best you could.
posted by EmpressCallipygos at 2:01 PM on February 2, 2022 [16 favorites]


It's really hard to process unusual and complicated grief like this when people are likely to bring their own assumptions, experiences, and baggage to any conversation. Someone saying, "I'm so sorry for your loss" might feel really loaded--so could someone saying, "You're not to blame for how the end of his life unfolded." To say nothing of people who bring in more editorializing ("When my dad died..." etc.). You might have friends who are thoughtful and empathetic enough to listen to you without any hint of telling you how to feel, or trying to shut down your self-blame, in which case lean on them. If not, or additionally, do you have a therapist? This is worth talking through with someone who is trained to sit with uncomfortable things and not push to fix them right away. It doesn't matter whether you "should" have done something different--not right now, not yet. It matters that you are feeling guilt about what you chose to do, in light of things you have learned. It matters that you're grieving the loss of a real person who both terrorized you as a child and died fragile and alone in miserable circumstances. It matters that you're grieving the loss of the possibility you and your father could find a way to connect. Those are hard areas of grief to share with everyday people, because they often (usually?) don't know how to respond, and when they respond with cliches ("He's at peace now," "You did the best you could," etc.) it can make you feel even more alone in your pain.

Eventually, I hope you can make peace with the choices you made. Maybe you will look at them and be confident you'd do the same thing over again, or maybe you will recognize how you would act differently. Being at peace with the past is about seeing that you can only ever act in the present moment, with the information, skills, and resources you have. Even if your current self would make different choices, you can have grace and compassion for the younger you whose information, skills, and resources led her to make the choices she made. But, maybe counterintuitively, you don't get to that peaceful place by denying the feelings you're currently having about your younger self, your father, and yourself now.
posted by theotherdurassister at 2:06 PM on February 2, 2022 [7 favorites]


Mourning a very ill, dysfunctional, abusive parent is so complicated and painful. It's mourning a functional, loving relationship that you never had along with mourning the collapse of the potential for finding a place of some healing and repair with them. I'm so sorry.

What happened with your father is not your fault and it didn't happen because you didn't do enough or because you have a poor character. It was the conclusion of a lifetime of severe illness and terrible decisions despite people around him trying to help or redirect him into better options. It's the failure of a system which casts mentally ill, addicted people into the gears instead of providing comprehensive care. A single person cannot compensate for the absence of appropriate medical and community care. Blaming yourself can be indulging in a fantasy that you had control over this when you did not. It's strangely comforting to us to blame ourselves for things that are completely out of our control as it prevents us from confronting the fact that we have so little ability to control or change the things closest to us.

I hope you find a way to be more gentle with yourself. You weren't clinging to traumas and resentments, you are a person who was traumatized by a parent who was scary and cruel to child you. You're a person who is still dealing with the fallout and damage done to you by a parent who was so sick that they had no capacity to care for you. That trauma is compounded by recovering from a marriage where you relived the cycle of being with your abusive parent. These are not trivial things that you can just brush off when it comes time to set about the business of being a guardian to someone who has resisted guardianship and treatment. Trauma fundamentally changes your ability to do things. It creates blockages and obstacles in your life. You're not a bad person for having to deal with trauma. You're not a person of poor character because you sustained damage as a child and are processing it and healing as an adult. You're not a failure as a daughter - you survived your childhood and are healing yourself. I'm so sorry and I hope you find peace as you mourn him.
posted by quince at 2:17 PM on February 2, 2022 [15 favorites]


This sucks and I am sorry. In the past ten years I saw the deaths of both of my difficult parents, my alcoholic dad who turned into a somewhat-benign older man except that he basically chased everyone away from him and then was resentful they wouldn't come to his house to clean his cat box and cut his toenails. He died suddenly, best for all concerned, and it sucked. I had a lot of weird feelings even though he and I had a decent relationship based on how much he has self-awareness of who he was and, more importantly, who he had been (not a good father, scary but not abusive when I was younger, tried to treat me more like a partner than a child in a way that was more sad than scary but still not okay). And a lot of people felt he was a weird misunderstood genius and why wouldn't I step in?

My mother was a charismatic narcissist. Mean as a snake to me and (alternatingly) my sister and had a foster child she doted on and they'd gang up on the two of us. Lived with cancer for a decade and it finally got her and we were with her at the end and I felt like it was a sham because I didn't have feelings for her in that way. An entire town mourned her loss and I was not among them. I feel a little weird about being this person with both of my parents but what is helpful to me is that I have a sister, to share my "This person was super fucked up to me and I did not owe them more than decency, right?" questions.

All of this to say: I am sorry. You did enough. It's not a child's place to try to help someone with serious mental illness manage that illness, especially while that person is fighting them off. But it's also just hard, and sad, that there wasn't someone who could do this. Just because a thing isn't done doesn't mean you should have been the one to do it. Al-Anon (or even reading a book or two) might be helpful. There are also some NAMI support groups for family members if you're in a place they serve that might help. It sounds like you and your mom get along okay? She might be a good person to kind of talk to about this because she saw him for who he was but, unlike you, she had more choices.

I dreamed about both my parents, in their bad forms, for a long time and, over time, started to have dreams they were in as more of their full selves. Sometimes that meant going back to before I knew them, but that was a shift I was happy for, helping somewhere in my psyche. I wish the same for you. For now, be gentle with yourself. Grief is hard and weird and complicated grief is harder and weirder.
posted by jessamyn at 2:27 PM on February 2, 2022 [45 favorites]


Your father’s life and your father’s death were not your fault, nor were they his own fault. Schizophrenia is what killed him, not alcohol. Most schizophrenics self medicate with alcohol or drugs; his alcoholism was a symptom of his mental illness.

One of the hardest things about dealing with schizophrenics is that they don’t understand that they’re sick, and as a result, they don’t stay on their medication. It has to do with frontal lobe problems; people who’ve had physical damage to their frontal lobe (such as football players) often have similar issues. It’s heartbreaking to see lives thrown away, and that is the cruelty of the illness. Try to reframe the problems you had with him while you were growing up as not being caused by him, but by his illness. When someone is behaving in a terrible way, it’s hard to understand that it’s not them, it’s the illness - but that’s what it is. Understanding that may help you eventually come to some kind of peace, knowing that for the most part, there’s not much anyone can do to help someone who simply doesn’t understand that they need help.

If you want to get a further understanding of schizophrenia, the “Bible” is a book titled “I Am Not Sick; I Don’t Need Help”. It’s written in laymen’s language, and explains things more clearly than I can. But the main thing to remember is that none of what happened was anyone’s fault, it was the illness - much as if he’d had incurable cancer.
posted by MexicanYenta at 2:51 PM on February 2, 2022 [4 favorites]


It sounds like you could be experiencing a mix of trauma both long-ago and from seeing his living situation, and survivor's guilt. If you're open to it, you could consider EMDR, which is proven to work for trauma and might help with other emotions too.
posted by rhizome at 3:13 PM on February 2, 2022 [1 favorite]


Oh longjump, I am so sorry. I'm 19 months out from my dad (an alcoholic who didn't ever really make it to recovery and with whom I had a complicated relationship) dying suddenly in similar terrible living conditions. The visceral horror of needing to be in that space while contending with both the loss and the belief that no one should live in those conditions is so hard.

You asked how can you deal with this. I imagine that looks a little different for everybody. For me, I realized about a week into grieving that I had some serious terror of regret. The regrets and should-have-dones and the condemnation I felt toward myself were so intense I felt as if those feelings were going to undo me. They were unbearable. They do get more bearable, but it takes time.

As I was searching for books that might give me a roadmap for grief, I came across a recommendation for David Whyte's book, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment, and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words. This book is a collection of brief, poetic essays on 52 different words. One of those words is "regret." When the book arrived, I flipped straight to that entry, and damn, it was what I needed. Here's the last little bit: "To regret fully is to appreciate how high the stakes are in even the average human life. Fully experienced, regret turns our eyes, attentive and alert to a future possibly lived better than our past."

Somehow those words helped me dance with my regret. Sometimes I cozied up to it. I journaled a lot about it. I listened to songs that reminded me of the best parts of my dad and wept and wailed my regret. And sometimes I spun my regret away, and tangoed with my anger instead. I wrote about my fury at having parents who made things worse than they needed to be. I listened to songs that reminded me of my right to choose myself over dysfunction. And sometimes I swayed with the acknowledgment that he and I both were just human beings doing our best.

I stayed vigilant about dancing too long with self-blame. Keep an eye out for that, and reach out for help if things start to go that way. I had to do that around the 1 year mark, and I'm glad I did.

Know that it is possible for love and regret and care for others and care for ourselves to coexist. It's complicated to balance all of that, and no one gets it perfect. Let it be complicated. Let the journey of making sense of what your dad's death means be slow. That compassion you feel for your dad - let yourself feel that for him and feel that for yourself too.
posted by Jade Horning at 3:19 PM on February 2, 2022 [8 favorites]


I've been doing some grief support in the past year and there are some things I always remind people:

1. Whatever you feel is normal. If you are hurting yourself or someone else, reach out for help. If you are having trouble functioning, reach out for help. Even if you think you're okay, still cultivate your support system just in case the need arises, or indeed if one of them needs you. But whatever you're feeling at any given moment is still normal, even if you feel terrible or nothing or like a monster or relieved. Every possible feeling is legitimately on the grief matrix, because humans and human relationships are complex systems.

2. What you feel at any given moment has no relationship to how you will feel in 5 minutes, 5 hours, 5 weeks, 5 months, or 5 years. There are no "stages" of grief, that's some now-clumsy writing that additionally got reduced to pop psych that doesn't even reflect what the book says. There are 999,999 types of grief, at least. You're going to flip through quite a few of them - and most of them are not one-and-done, you will revisit some many times. Just don't decide that you're always going to feel exactly as you do now, but also don't decide a few weeks from now as the dust settles a little and your body kind of enforces periods of normalcy so it can rest that whew, good thing that's over because then it just hits so much harder when it gets you again. It's not linear, and it's okay that it's not linear even though a whole lot of people around you are going to want you to be Over It in a few weeks so they don't have to be uncomfortable.

2a. But right now your lifelong trauma is triggered very, very hard. There is no Grief Olympics but you are experiencing more than just grief right now. We use the term Complicated Grief because it sums it up well in a phrase but I do feel like it maybe downplays the role that trauma generally plays in any situation where grief might be not a very clear-cut thing. Just go easy on yourself, okay? Take care of you, because grief is stress and it's incredibly hard on the body.

I don't really have a 2b. But I just want to tell you that your father (and you and the rest of your family) was failed by the system - actually he was failed by a society that has not found a way to even have a working system. You were dealing with a situation that needed trained expert intervention the whole time, and there's not really any. This was never something you could have fixed or handled or taken care of alone.
posted by Lyn Never at 3:25 PM on February 2, 2022 [7 favorites]


You could not have done better.

You could not have fixed any of the problems he was facing: you can't cure alcoholism, you can't cure schizophrenia or made someone take medication, you can't perform hip replacement surgery.

You could not have been unaffected by his drunken rages or his inability to remember anything about your life.

The grief you have now is so complex. In addition to seeking professional help (therapy? EMDR? other?) I would suggest you try a grief support group. You may find comfort in hearing other people's perspectives on their own complicated grief.
posted by meemzi at 3:41 PM on February 2, 2022 [1 favorite]


Staying alive and keeping our tribe alive is such a deep instinct that we can be made to cry by watching a made for TV movie in which a child dies, even while we know that it is just a movie and nobody died at all, let alone a child. The stuff you feel when there is a death is often very strong and very instinctive and often not very rational at all.

It is pretty common to feel "I should have done more!" when someone dies. That can happen even when you couldn't possibly have done more. Sometimes when there is a disaster of some sort - like if a boat capsizes, and only one person is pulled from the water, barely alive from hypothermia, they are bedeviled by guilt that they should have somehow saved the other people, and constantly replay what they should have done. It's not even uncommon for the survivor's life to be wrecked by survivor's guilt because the event becomes ptsd of the sort where they replay it over and over, filled with shame that they had not been able to do impossible things.

I'm not saying this to suggest you are going to suffer ptsd or feel lasting guilt, I'm just trying to indicate the range of irrational thoughts that are often triggered by a death and how very extremely irrational they can be. Even people who successfully rescue other people and perform heroics can be bedeviled by replaying what they did, sweating over their choices, second guessing themselves and feeling terrified by the idea that if they had done something at all differently the outcome would have been devastating.

There is a very good chance that the feelings you are having now are the vestigial emergency response. If you had heard that your dad was alone and about to die without medical care, you'd have gone into an emergency response mode - grab phone, get in car, call while driving, try to get an ambulance, meet ambulance at hospital - but your dad DIDN'T call you - he called a neighbour. So all your instincts to protect tribe, to prevent danger and death are left hanging with no place to go.

Since your relationship was a complex one, your emotional response will be stronger. Simple grief is easy, complex grief is harder because you also have anger and hurt somehow multiplying the feeling of loss. Right now you are being hit by strong fresh feelings that may trigger urges to do things you don't expect: sleep, babble, eat compulsively, fuck, hide from people, cling to people, get religion, become an atheist, learn about your father's history, stay awake all night, eradicate him from your life, get drunk, have a baby, make something of your life and take up art, create a memorial for him such as a foundation to get people to the hospital so he won't have died in vain, or other things that feel like they will discharge the restless sense that you should have done or should do something.

This stage is temporary. Sleeping patterns go back to normal, the crying jags stop, the guilty feeling will abate. Sometimes people cling to the guilt because letting go of it means letting go of the person and they are not ready for that. Give it some time. Almost everyone gets more perspective once the shock response to the death wears off. Your body is still in some way on high emergency alert. Nurture yourself, and if it helps, nurture other members of your family who are bereaved, such as your mother.

Think of this as an injury - the wound has yet to knit and is apt to bleed freely. Given time it will knit. It might leave you with a limp, but with good self care probably will heal so that you can see the scars, but you function just as well as you did before. Self care is key.
posted by Jane the Brown at 6:33 PM on February 2, 2022 [2 favorites]


In summary, I feel that I failed him as a daughter just as much as he failed me as a father - and this is making me question everything about my own character as a result.
THIS IS NOT TRUE
As a father, he was supposed to care for you - physically and emotionally. Instead he actively made your world unsafe. This is a very big failure and very important one since it happened to a child who should have been under his care.

As a daughter, unlike your father, you did nothing directly to harm him. Perhaps there was an indirect discomfort because you kept your distance but between two adults, there is a concept of consent - you were not required to make your father happy especially at the cost of your own mental well-being. I know that you wish very much that you had been been able to alleviate some of his suffering. Given that your mother also tried and much of it seemed beyond her ability to fix, especially since your father himself was actively working against his own best interests. So, while you measure yourself against what you wished you had done, you should be realistic about what was possible and realistic given your father's history, illness and personality.
posted by metahawk at 9:27 PM on February 2, 2022 [8 favorites]


Lots of wonderful responses here already, but I just want to say, it only happened Sunday. It hasn’t even been a week.

In my family we sit shiva for our close relatives, and even the most peaceful and expected death can bring up complex and troubling issues during that week long mourning period. It is so helpful to be in an environment of mutual support and structured, encouraged mourning, knowing that people will come to us and that we are free of obligation to go places and do things for this little while. There are many different traditions like this in all the different cultures of the world, and I highly recommend that you engage with some that speak to you. A grief counselor can really help point you in directions that might feel right.

You will not always feel the way that you feel now. Time and support from others and keeping yourself open will help you process the trauma and grief. It won’t be linear, some days will be worse than the days before, but you are not stuck.

I know you didn’t ask for validation but my family has a history of schizophrenia and connected abuse, self harm and suicide, and it looms large over us all. I think you and your mother have shown deep compassion, patience, and generosity. I feel like the kindest people in my family would have made similar choices, but also the kindest people in my family didn’t have our schizophrenic relatives for parents, and those relatives would have completely burnt bridges decades ago. You are already remarkable. Give yourself time and permission to feel however you want to feel. At least give yourself a full week.
posted by Mizu at 12:58 AM on February 3, 2022 [5 favorites]


I am so incredibly sorry, longjump. My estranged, alcoholic mother died under similarly terrible circumstances 11 years ago. I don't think I have it in me to go into details here, and everyone else has already given most of the advice I would give. But if you want someone to talk to who has been there, memail me. Sending you my love and compassion. It will get better.
posted by widdershins at 7:06 AM on February 3, 2022 [3 favorites]


One paradoxical thing I've come to learn is that the death of a parent who was abusive, neglectful, terrifying, disappointing, etc. throughout life usually turns out to be more painful - or at least more complicated - than the death of a parent who was loving, present, and supportive. Because for the former kind of parent, we suffer a double-loss: the loss of the parent themselves, but also the loss of some wish or desire for/about the parent we needed them to have been. And of course, they never were that kind of parent; and now, death forecloses the possibility that they could ever be. We lose something both outside and inside ourselves.

Being in this situation, I've found it helpful to take seriously the fact that guilt is the reaction.

This is very different from taking seriously the charges you've levied against yourself - in the immediate wake of this happening, you will justifiably be unable to judge what you did or did not have the power, or responsibility, to have done. There's no need to figure that out at this particular moment.

Taking seriously the fact that you do feel guilty, then, means knowing that the guilt says something about you, your relationship with your dad, and what you wanted and needed from him throughout your life. It is worth listening to that part of yourself, because to listen to that part is to start the process of grieving the second loss, which is always laid over the first.
posted by obliterati at 9:41 AM on February 3, 2022 [2 favorites]


This is not particularly meant to make you feel "better", but I just want to say that my father was maybe an alternative universe version of yours - not quite so terrible, not quite so sick over the years, and my mom stayed with him. His death was still awful - even with help and some medical support, the opportunity to change this outcome was lost years ago and his body was on this trajectory in a way that doing something differently would have only time-shifted it briefly. Your mother's attempt to intervene 3 years ago was probably already too late to change much. Any intervention you had accomplished since then would have maybe made him a little more comfortable in surroundings but probably not in his actual physical existence.

But the other side of that is that your father, even very ill, was an adult with agency even if his decision-making skills were demon-infested. And so when you try to write an alternate ending to this story that is freshly-laundered and clean and comfortable because you did everything "right", you have to add in the part where he likely would have been furious and resentful and combative and humiliated at having his right to decide taken from him.

I had to say this to my mom eventually. You know, he chose this. We may well think that what he wanted was bullshit and created a lot of trouble and misery for the people around him, and probably close to the end he realized that too - I think he hoped he'd just not wake up one day, and he lost that gamble - but it was what he wanted. He violently refused to be forced to do anything different, until he was literally so incapacitated the paramedics wouldn't leave when he tried to refuse to go with them again. And he fucking hated it, and he was scared and very sick, and being in a nursing home didn't fix that, being on hospice didn't fix that.

You didn't cause this, and you could not have fixed it. It is real normal in grief to try to "solve" a death, try to figure out how you could have kept it from happening so you know the exact thing to feel guilty about. There was nothing you or your mom could have done to make this not pretty ugly, it's just how it was, based on forces outside your control.

I agree with obliterati that one of the hardest parts of this kind of loss is that it's the death of opportunity too. As long as he's alive, you can harbor a tiny hope that it will all somehow fix itself and the damage done to you and tra la la rainbows. Probably it was never going to happen, but not being able to foster that hope at all anymore is a devastating blow.
posted by Lyn Never at 9:45 AM on February 3, 2022 [5 favorites]


Response by poster: Thank you all so much for these thoughtful answers. Lots of things to think about. I do have a therapist and we'll be working on this, other than than I guess everything will be more bearable as time goes on.
posted by longjump at 7:26 AM on February 4, 2022 [2 favorites]


I keep this in my bookmarks: The evolution of grief.
posted by Lyn Never at 7:50 AM on February 4, 2022 [1 favorite]


This twitter thread also really helped me understand the course of grief in a way that felt true to what I experienced.
posted by jessamyn at 12:29 PM on February 4, 2022 [1 favorite]


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