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I was 21 when my dad died. Now I'm helping my friends handle their own parents' deaths.

Fleurine Tideman   

I was 21 when my dad died. Now I'm helping my friends handle their own parents' deaths.
Science2 min read
  • My dad died in 2018 when I was 21-years-old.
  • I was the first one of my friends to have a parent die, and they didn't know how to help me.

I was 21 when I joined the Dead Parents Club. There's no initiation for this non-exclusive club, just the loss of a parent. One moment, you're complaining about them and screening their calls, and the next, you're looking at a lifetime without them.

My father died on the 12th of September 2018. It was a relief to us all after a month of false hope and watching him disappear before our eyes. He didn't go willingly, as up until the end, my father was scared of dying`.

No one knew how to help me

I was the first of my friends to have a parent die. No one had any idea what to say to me. I was a shocking snippet to be told during a lull in conversation. I was a Facebook post to heart react to and feel relieved that you're not my sisters or me. I was a reminder to send your parents a Whatsapp that you love them while you still can.

My friends struggled to comfort me. I was avoiding my grief, and none of them knew whether they should leave me in denial or encourage me to confront everything I continued to numb. They had to buy clothes to wear to a funeral, create group chats about whether they should send flowers, and awkwardly avoid any mention of parents. They didn't know the protocol surrounding death and grief, the vocabulary, and various to-do lists.

Being the first to experience the death of a parent meant that I existed as some kind of trailblazer. My friends watched me in awe and told me how they couldn't understand how I was surviving. They didn't realize that there was no choice but survival, at least there wasn't in my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to pull the duvet over my face and never leave my bed again. But I had bills to pay, an internship I had worked hard to earn, and remaining family members who needed me to be okay.

Now I'm their expert

It's been fiver years since my dad died, and now my friends are starting to go through the same experience. Now I'm the one who greets new members upon entry.

I tell them that I understand how they feel and I'm here for anything; the difference is that I mean it, because I actually know what that anything can entail. I tell them that they don't have to reply, because I understand how overwhelming the number of messages can be. I tell them that they don't have to be okay, because I know how badly I needed to hear that.

I say and do everything that I wish had been done for me, when no one was prepared. Now I'm prepared. I'm the expert on grief in my friend group, the one they turn to for advice when another acquaintance joins this club.

I became the expert because I had to. Every friend group will have someone who learns about death before the others. You'll realize how little we discuss death and grief despite it being the most universal experience out there. You'll have a perspective that others don't, and you'll always feel a little separated from the rest. But you'll have a unique connection with others who unfortunately lose a parent. This bond will go beyond words, especially useless statements like "I'm sorry for your loss".

For now, I wait for my friends in the Dead Parents Club, and yet I desperately pray that they have decades until they have to join me here.


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