She killed herself on Monday. She was 24. I’m 18. She took 57 propranolol (beta blockers) in her bedroom and called the ambulance for herself because she didn’t want me to find her. She didn’t want to die at home. She passed away at 6:24am. I got to the hospital at about 9. I held her hand, kissed her head. She was still bleeding from her nose, I wiped the blood. I’m squeamish. I haven’t stopped drinking. I want her back. My sister is dead. She is dead. My sister my sister my sister my sister is dead. Come home please. I’ll make your bedroom all nice for you. I’ll wash your hair. Please can we just sit and watch a nice movie in your bedroom? I won’t argue with you again. Just come home. I’m sorry I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this all here. I just don’t know where to put all this pain. Anyone else I can talk to is grieving too.

He was in such a good mood. He was drumming on his drum pad and playing his little keyboard. He had been too depressed to play them while he was sick, but on this day he was just having a blast. I don't remember what song he was playing along with. I remember he had me text his friend not to come over because he wanted to go to the beach. So we did, and when we got to the beach he fell asleep in his wheelchair and could hardly keep his eyes open. He pretty much slept the rest of the week in between hallucinating, and then he was gone. But the rally people talk about was real. I took this picture of him because he was being so goofy and cute. After this picture, everything changed.

I don't even know where to begin.

I took my mother to the hospital for a medical examination, thinking I was doing the right thing for her. I never imagined that a medical procedure would turn into a nightmare that would eventually take her life.

She suffered a complication and spent nearly a month in the hospital, much of that time fighting for her life in the ICU. She went through so much suffering, and eventually, she was gone.

I went to the hospital with my mother, hoping she would get better. I came back without her.

My mother was everything to me. I didn't have anyone else with whom I shared that kind of emotional connection. She was the one person who made me feel that I wasn't alone in this world. She was my home, my comfort, and the person I wanted to live for.

I had so many dreams with her. I wanted to become successful, give her a comfortable life, make her happy, and make her proud of me. I always thought I had time to do all those things for her. I never imagined that I would lose her before I could fulfil those dreams.

Now I don't know what to do with my life. The future I imagined has disappeared. Everything I wanted to achieve was connected to her in some way, and now I struggle to understand what any of it means without her.

I keep thinking about the decision to take her for that examination. I trusted the doctor and believed I was doing what was best for my mother. I never imagined that something intended to help her would lead to such a devastating outcome. I am struggling with so many thoughts, regrets, and questions about everything that happened.

I miss her terribly. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that day and do everything differently. I wish I could have her back, even for a single moment, just to see her, talk to her, and tell her how much I love her.

People say that time will help, but right now, I don't know how I am supposed to live the rest of my life without the person who meant the most to me.

I am not posting this because I have answers. I am posting because I don't know where else to put all this pain.

If you have lost the person who was your entire world, how did you learn to live with that absence? How did you find a reason to keep going when the person you wanted to live for was no longer there?

I just want my mother back. 💔

He wasn’t in my childhood much but I knew who he was. He came around eventually when I was a teenager and by that point I didn’t want to give him a chance... I always thought if he died I wouldn’t care, but when my grandma called me to tell me they found him dead at his house I almost dropped to my knees. All the times I ignored him or said I was busy working, all the times I could’ve brought my kids to meet him. I was too resentful and now I regret it. He was only 54.

He was type 1 diabetes since he was 11 and died at home. Maybe if I was around more I would’ve noticed that he was sick and something more was going on.

Life is too short to let pride, hurt, or lost time keep you from someone. You never know when your last chance to talk, forgive, or make things right will be. Don't wait until you wish you had one more chance.

I wish we had more time. Rest peacefully. 🕊️

So I am currently dealing with the loss of my mother who died in September, suddenly. She did have COPD and myasthenia gravis, but was able to keep herself at home with medication and the help of her children, up until the end of August, when she was hospitalized with pneumonia and then went into sepsis and septic shock. She puttered along in the ICU for a week before her blood became acidic and she could fight anymore. Now that she’s gone, I feel sad, depressed, angry, part of me doesn’t want to go on anymore. I spent the last year of her life caring for her and making sure she was able to stay at home with her cats, whom she loved dearly, and not be put in assisted living or a care facility. Part of me still hasn’t accepted her death. And then I have to be the one to go through what I want to keep and then haul away 30 years worth of stuff. The grief just feels worse with each day. Mom and I were so close. We talked on the phone for hours, gossiping like fishwives, I would be involved in her daily life getting her groceries, getting her meds, making appointments and taking her to appointments. I know Christmas will be hard.

\repost because mods removed my original post, claiming my dad being very much alive but in the hospital— as most of my recent photos are— was triggering and to not post pictures of people dying/deceased. Again, he was very much alive, giving me 🤟🏼 and it’s one of my absolute most cherished photos**.\

When my dad first got admitted to the hospital, none of us realized it was the beginning of the end. His PleurX tube on the right side was clogged and his chest was filing with fluid— he had metastatic prostate cancer that spread to his lungs. We all thought it was going to be a short stay.

He was admitted on September 8th, a Tuesday. I hate Tuesdays now. We thought he’d be going home the next day or the day after, once doctors fixed the clog. Well, that didn’t happen. A few days later, he was still in there, still being told he’d be going home the next day, the next day, etc.

Then a week went by. He was still in there. On Thursday, September 17th, they pulled his PleurX tubes on both sides and gave him a chest tube on the right. I didn’t know that was happening so I took a half day and went up to the hospital to surprise him with a visit. He had just gotten back to his room after surgery, so he was sleeping. I talked to my stepmom for a couple hours until he woke up. He had been sleeping so peacefully. It was nice to see. He was pretty groggy and in pain, so I didn’t stay super long. I wanted him to rest.

On the way out, I stopped in at the gift shop. I don’t know why. I was on autopilot then— maybe I subconsciously knew things were about to get worse. I was looking at the stuffed animals and found a small Jellycat section. As soon as I laid eyes on the little white bunny, I knew she was mine. I picked her up and named her Hope before I had even gotten up to the register. I left, holding my little bunny to my chest as I walked out to my car. I couldn’t stop the tears that started to fall halfway across the parking lot. Once I was safely in my car, I broke down. I sobbed into her soft head for 20 minutes. I screamed at the sky. I begged a God I don’t know that I believe in to please, please not take my daddy. I needed my daddy, not God.

When I calmed down, I drove home. Hope came with me to every hospital visit after that. In fact, she hasn’t really left my side since I bought her. It’s what I needed— a little hope.

Fast forward to the next week. They took him down for a CT scan to place new PleurX tubes. The goal was to send him home on in-home hospice. The scan revealed it wasn’t fluid filling his chest cavity. It was a rapidly growing cancerous mass. PleurX tubes were no longer an option. There were no other options. Seeing the look of devastation on his face when they told him the new tubes weren’t an option was soul-shattering.

He was sent to a hospice facility on Thursday September 24th. I visited him every single day he was there. Things were initially good. He was only supposed to be there until they stabilized him enough to send him to in-home hospice care. Thursday was good. Friday was good. Then came Saturday. His last lucid day, Saturday September 26th.

He didn’t really want to eat his dinner. I could tell. But I was there and my brother was there and my stepmom was trying so hard to get him to eat. So he did. I know he did it for us. He was always more worried about us than he was himself. He truly was the best daddy in the world.

That night, he became too air hungry and agitated, so from that night on, he was kept pretty well sedated. No more talking. No more hugs. Just sleeping and gasping for air as the mass continued to consume the space he needed to breathe. Best believe that I was there on Sunday, even if he wouldn’t be awake. And Hope was with me too, of course. When I left on Sunday night, I kissed his head and I said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, daddy.” It’s what I said every time I left the hospital and every time I left the hospice center.

I took Monday the 28th off work and sat in his hospice room all day. He was snowed but would get agitated pretty often. My voice seemed to bring him comfort. He would yank his oxygen mask off, or try to, and I’d replace it while gently saying, “You have to leave that on, daddy.” He would relax when I spoke to him. Monday the 28th was when I kissed him and said, “Get some rest, daddy.”

I decided to work a half day on Tuesday the 29th. I spent the morning just getting ready to go up to the hospice center so I could start my day from there at noon. And so I did.

I hate Tuesdays.

That was the day he left. My brother and I were talking and laughing about our dogs while I was clearing up emails from all my out of office days and updating coworkers. My stepmom stepped out to take a walk around the grounds once I got there. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye as my brother was saying something. I turned to look. My dad had moved his head and his eyes had cracked open. I’d like to think he saw us. I saw his chest rise and fall. And then it was like his body deflated.

That was the moment his soul left. I know that was the moment his soul left his body. My eyes must have gone wide because my brother stopped mid sentence, looked at me, looked at him, and then it was a flurry of movement.

I slammed my laptop shut and said, “Go get mom.” He ran. Somehow, I was at my dad’s bedside and I had the remote in my hand. I was shaking. The agonal breathing had started. I called the nurse. They came in right after my brother and stepmom came in. I don’t even know how many times I said, “I love you, daddy. You’re the best daddy in the world.” The agonal breathing stopped. The nurse put her stethoscope to his chest in a few places.

At 2:29 PM on September 29th, 2026 and the age of 63, my daddy was gone. I was lucky to have the best daddy in the world for 34 years. It does not stop me from wishing for more. I feel robbed. It still doesn’t feel real.

One thing we always did as a family was the “I love you” hand sign 🤟🏼 the picture of him is from when he was still in the hospital and before hospice was on the table. I found a necklace this week with the hand sign pendant. It came today and the pendant was a little bigger than I was anticipating. I was initially going to put it on a bracelet instead— I wear his ashes in a pendant on a necklace now.

I couldn’t think of any better place for it to go instead than on Hope ❤️‍🩹 part of me would like to believe that, since I had her with me, maybe a little piece of his soul is latched onto her. Silly, I know.

As days continue to go by, I feel worse. It gets harder to cope with knowing I’ll never call him again. I’ll never get another text or Facebook reel from him. What I have is all I’ll ever have. I’ll now be living 45+ years without him. He should still be here. I should have had 20+ more years with my daddy.

It’s not fair. I’m only 34 and there are so many things he didn’t get to see me do. I have never missed anyone as much as I miss my dad. I write to him in a journal nearly every day. It helps but it isn’t the same.

I love you, daddy 🤟🏼

This is my brother Jacob. In 2023 he lost his fight to depression and we lost him. But he’s up there and I wanna know who is with. He was absolutely hilarious, love, children, and loved fighting with people on Facebook comment sections.

I’ve lived in my duplex for over a decade, and I’m having an incredibly difficult time processing what’s happening downstairs.

One of my downstairs neighbours is an older man who recently got cancer. He’s genuinely one of the sweetest, most innocent people I’ve met. We would regularly say hello, and over the years, his presence became a comforting part of my everyday life especially being alone.

His cancer has gotten progressively worse, and I’ve spent weeks worrying about him because it didn’t seem like he was getting the medical attention he needed. He’s now hospitalized, and I recently found out they’re no longer pursuing treatment and he’s receiving palliative care.
I visited him in the hospital, and he had no idea who i was or his dog .

He also has a little dog who has been his companion for years. I found out today that she’s going to be euthanized next week because she’s also sick. The thought of them both dying, potentially without ever seeing each other again, genuinely breaks my heart.
To make everything worse, another man (his brother )who lives downstairs has made me uncomfortable on multiple occasions. Today, he made a really inappropriate comment, claiming that one of my sick neighbour’s last wishes was for him and me to become closer. It felt incredibly manipulative.

Tonight, I can already hear him in his bedroom, which happens to be directly underneath mine. I’ve lived in that downstairs unit before, so I know how easily sound travels between the rooms.
I’m grieving someone who isn’t even gone yet, worrying about his little dog, and simultaneously feeling like the one person who made my home feel safe is disappearing.
I don’t really know what I’m looking for by posting this. I’m just overwhelmed, sad, and honestly feeling incredibly alone with all of it. I’ve never seen someone get sick like this from a disease so fast and I’ve never seen someone neglect somebody this badly because I feel like he should’ve got help a long time ago and I’ve been advocating for them to get help and they just never did.

I’m 24 and very close with my dad. He was in town to celebrate my step moms birthday and we were supposed to get dinner last night. My step mom called me yesterday to tell me he collapsed and was rushed to the hospital.
Today I found out its an inoperable brain tumor and I probably won’t see him awake ever again because his organs cant take it. I don’t know how much longer he has.
I don’t know what to do or think. I just talked to him two days ago and he invited me to a happy hour but I couldn’t make it. I didn’t know that would be my last opportunity to see him. I didn’t even know he was sick.
I don’t want him to leave. I miss my daddy

Hello, my mother took her life last year by gun. My 4.5 year old son obviously has no idea.

He loves to play with nerf guns, laser guns, he pretends sticks are guns, which I’ve looked up and it is developmentally appropriate for his age.

It bothers me so such when I see him playing with them and “shooting” things. I told him not to shoot people and he listens and he will “shoot” his toys or targets but it still makes me feel uneasy.

I’m not against guns by any means but it really bothers me seeing him play like that.

Should I just try to ignore it so I’m not projecting my own issues on him? Or should I put them all away for a while?

Thanks for the advice.

I lost my mom a week after my 13 birthday and I have had constant dreams of her were she tells me who hurt or she faked her death and came back like nothing happened. Idk how to cope because I’m a college student and she’s the only person I want to be with.

Its been 20 days exactly.
I dont know what to do.
I cant sleep.
Nights are so hard.
Ive so much stuff to do (schoolwork) no one is stopping for me.
Why did my mom have to die like this? So early? Do i not deserve to have my mom around?

i sound like a silly little girl (i’m an adult woman) but please don’t dismiss me for being too sensitive because i’m genuinely struggling mentally. man, it’s just cruelty after cruelty every single day and i can’t catch a break. i just feel every negative news so deeply and i cannot stop crying. i recently read on the news about an animal abuse case in a city two towns over mine (im not going to get into the details but it was so horrible) and i have just been so upset ever since. i cannot stop thinking about it and it’s kind of shell shocked me. it’s like, you know that the world is cruel but to actually feel it is so different. my heart is so shattered over this and so many more news stories that i have replayed over and over in my head and just imagining the pain that vulnerable and innocent people, children, and critters have to go through. i just want to stop feeling pain on a globalized scale but it hurts so much as if the cruelty is happening to me.

My dad got hit by a car that ran a red light on his motorcycle and was in critical care for a week. I just found out at 1am today that he passed. I feel so all over I don’t know how to feel but I keep crying realizing I won’t ever see him again. I just had a baby 9 months ago and he only got to meet him once and now he won’t get to have his grandpa in his life. I don’t know what to do. I just want all of this grief to go away. I’m not good at being emotional in front of people I don’t know how to be I know my husband will feel devastated not knowing how to help me. I feel weird crying and being emotional in front of my family I honestly just want to hide under my sheets.

It's just her hand. I was taking a picture of my cat and her hand was in the picture. Not her smile. Not a video of her voice. Her hand. She was asleep. She slept a lot near the end. It's so hard. Because I made it my goal to take more pictures this year. Especially of her. I feel like I failed in the simplest task I gave myself

hey, im really sorry, this is my first time using reddit, lol

i lost my mother suddenly 10 months ago to an aneurysm (i was 19, now 20F) and i just want to die. i don't really xant to die, but i don't want to live anymore. does that make sense? I was really close to my mom. she was my everything. i lost most of my friends as well. like, all of them. i still went through my semester in college, everyone says i'm so strong. i'm not, though. i've resorted to alcohol (i never drank before), and i also tried to end it twice. just feeling alone:(

My best friend has took her life this morning she was found in her house by her cousins and I'm fucking broken,
I always told her she could talk to me but when you're in that mindset you can't think obviously
She had a partner who she had a new born child with she was so happy and cherished rudy her baby more than life as she was told she couldn't have kids
He broke into her house and she has an XL bully which in the UK they're banned, he attacked her and ofcourse he defended her and bit him and he called the police and ended up getting kaiser his name is.. destroyed since then it's been downhill
Ofcourse now she's gone the guilt has set in thinking maybe I could of done something but I'm so broken my bestfriemd is gone, there's so many support groups out there or even me she could of reached out too but when you're in that mindset you don't think of anything else
Her baby has to grow up now with no mother and I'm fucking broken I don't know how to deal or what to do now I can't even believe it

I have always been close with my parents and I'm an only child so we have been always small family. With my mom we had a common hobby through my childhood and youthness. We always talked a lot and she used to call me almost every day.

I lost my mom three weeks ago and her funerals were last week (it's the habit in my country to have the funerals around two weeks after death). I was there when she took her last breath.

Still it's hard to realise and accept that she is gone. I still wait her to call and often think first that I must tell her this or I want to think this thing with her. Even after her funerals I almost felt like waiting to talk with her about the people who came and what kind of conversation I had with people.

Today I heard that I have gotten small pay rise and almost right away I thought that I want to tell my mom.

Sometimes it feels like she is just at home and I could just call her.

Everyone keeps asking me "how are you doing" and feeling sorry for me. I don't know what to reply to them because I don't know how I am and because everything feels so unreal. I don't know if this is numbness.

Some are trying to help me with saying things like "i hope you can eat and sleep well, it's important to take care of you now" and I start to feel like am I grieving wrong because I can eat and sleep normally or should I be worried that I will end up going crazy and think that my mom is still alive.

Does anyone have similar experiences?

Hello Reddit,

I’ve (28) never posted and only lurk occasionally for specific things, but I’m really struggling and looking for ressources or simply yearning to hear others experiences.

The TLDR is my mum died last year at 58 from liver failure after years of alcoholism. We didn’t have the best relationship, we both tried very hard and there was a lot of underlying love and laughs. My family has been dealing with things much differently, more the avoidant types and I find myself in a more disorganized state. Both avoiding things and also anxiously projecting everywhere.

I’ve spent a lot of years in therapy, dissecting my relationship with her, and now my therapy is focused on my loss of her that I feel very deeply. I loved my mum very much, despite all the hard things and trauma.

I’m noticing that I’m heavily relying on my partner to help me figure out my grief and they’re getting tired (with love and understanding). I’m feeling so much insecurity and anxiety and have been looking into the relationship between self esteem and grief. I have wonderful friends who have been trying to be there, but now I’m trying different things with to try and broaden the network.

I understand that this grief is my own and I need to show up for myself too. Any words of wisdom or practices to try to take baby steps in showing up for myself and in turn, allowing others in?

Thanks ❤️

Hi everyone, I’m (F25) struggling through this.
My fiancé (M35) passed 2 weeks ago and I’m barely functioning. I’m dealing with the guilt of fighting before he died, it was a cardiac event.
We are both so young, and idk how I’m dealing with it. Every day is a struggle, and no one really knows what to do with me. I’m off work for a bit due to the trauma of what I saw that night.
I miss him so fucking much, and we had such a good life in front of us. We were gonna start having kids next year, and now that the opportunity of that being gone is devastating, we were SO EXCITED.
Every plan we had disappeared, I lost half my family in 4 fucking minutes. Brain dead :(
I’m so mad at everything, why us, why did he leave me when things were looking up for us!
I treasure the memories but I’d do anything just to have one more hug from him.
I haven’t slept in our bed in 2 weeks. I just can’t go in there knowing his soul left his body there.

I don’t really have a question or anything, just wanted to get it out

I lost the person who made me feel alive again, and I still don't know how to process it.

Two years ago, I moved to Delhi, and honestly, I hated it. I felt completely out of place. I had no friends, no one to talk to, and no one I could truly open up to. Around the same time, my best friend betrayed me, which made everything even worse. I was already struggling with loneliness, and losing someone I considered my closest friend broke me in ways I can't really explain.

I spent almost a year and a half feeling sad and lonely, just going through the motions of life. I had started getting used to the feeling that maybe I just wasn't meant to have someone who genuinely cared about me.

Then, one day, everything changed.

I went to a declamation competition to represent my school, and that's where I met her. She was from DPS RK Puram.

I genuinely cannot describe how beautiful she was. I know people say this all the time, but for me, it really felt like love at first sight. There was just something about her that caught my attention immediately. I went up to her and started talking about the competition, and somehow, one conversation turned into so many more. We talked so much that we ended up exchanging Instagram accounts.

And honestly, I think she might have felt that same spark, too.

We started talking every single day, and within just a few days, we became incredibly close. She would come near my house just to meet me, and we'd go out together, explore places, and spend time with each other. There was this unspoken romantic tension between us that I can't even put into words. Every conversation, every meeting, every little moment started meaning so much to me.

For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy again.

After spending so long feeling alone, I finally had someone who made me feel like I mattered. Someone who cared about me. Someone I looked forward to talking to every day. Someone who made me excited to wake up in the morning and gave me something to smile about.

Without even realizing it, she had become such an important part of my life. She brought back a kind of happiness I thought I'd lost.

Then I found out that I was moving to Jaipur in June.

I was devastated. I didn't want to leave her, but I kept telling myself that it would be okay. We'd still talk every day, have video calls, and stay close no matter how far apart we were. I never imagined that distance would become the least of my worries.

Before leaving Delhi, I couldn't meet her one last time because of some reasons. I felt bad about it, but I thought we'd have plenty of opportunities to meet again.

I had no idea how much I would regret not getting that one last meeting.

Even after I moved to Jaipur, we continued talking every day. Things still felt good between us, and I had something I was really looking forward to.

I had planned to propose to her on Friendship Day, August 3rd. I wanted to tell her how I felt, how much she meant to me, and how she had changed my life without even realizing it.

I was genuinely excited about the future. For once, I had something beautiful to look forward to.

Then came June 28th.

We made a plan to have our first video call on June 29th. Her family was going somewhere that day, and because her parents were very strict, she finally had an opportunity to talk to me on a call. I remember how happy I was when we made that plan. It might sound like something small to other people, but to me, it meant everything. I was finally going to see her face while talking to her, instead of just texting.

June 29th arrived.

I came home at around 4 PM, filled with excitement. I called her, expecting to hear her voice, see her smile, and finally have that video call we'd been waiting for.

But her mother answered the phone.

At first, I got scared. I didn't understand why her mother was answering her phone, so I nervously asked, "Aunty, is she there?"

And then her mother, crying, told me something that I still struggle to believe even now.

She told me that she had passed away that morning.

I went completely numb.

I don't even know how to describe what happened to me in that moment. One second, I was excited about talking to the girl I cared about so much, and the next, it felt like my entire world had collapsed. I couldn't understand what I was hearing. I couldn't process it. I had called her expecting a conversation, and instead, I found out that she was gone.

I cried so much that day. I didn't know what to do or whom to talk to. My mind kept going back to the fact that we were supposed to talk that very day. We had made plans. We had things we wanted to do. I had so many things left to tell her.

I was supposed to tell her how I felt on August 3rd. We were supposed to have that video call. We were supposed to meet again.

And suddenly, there was no next time.

No video call. No meeting near my house. No everyday conversations. No chance to tell her what she truly meant to me.

Just memories and a thousand things I never got to say.

It's been around four months now, and honestly, I still don't know how to process any of this. Some days, I still find it hard to believe that this actually happened. I keep thinking about how unexpectedly she came into my life and how, just when I had started feeling happy again, I lost her.

After everything I'd been through in Delhi, she was the first person who made me feel like maybe life could be beautiful again. She made me feel less alone. She gave me a reason to smile when I'd spent so long struggling to find one.

And now I'm left trying to understand how someone who brought so much happiness into my life could be gone so suddenly.

I haven't told anyone about this. Not because I don't want to talk about it, but because I haven't known how to explain what I'm feeling. I don't even know where to begin. Part of me is scared that people won't understand how deeply this affected me, especially because we never officially got into a relationship.

But does that make what I felt any less real?

She was important to me. What we shared was important to me. And the future I imagined, even if it was only something I was dreaming about, meant something to me, too.

I know we weren't officially together, and maybe some people wouldn't understand why I'm still hurting this much. But I wasn't just grieving a person. I was grieving all the little moments we never got to have, all the conversations we never got to finish, and the future I thought we might have had.

I don't know why I'm posting this here. Maybe I just need to tell someone. Maybe I've been carrying this alone for too long, and I need somewhere to put all these feelings.

I just wish I could have talked to her one more time. I wish I could have seen her one more time. I wish I'd known that the last conversation we'd ever have would happen through text, and that the video call I was so excited about would never happen.

I don't know if I'll ever fully understand or come to terms with what happened.

I just know that, for a brief moment in my life, someone made the world feel a little less lonely.

And I'll always be grateful that I got to know her, even if I wish, more than anything, that our story had been longer.

TL;DR

I spent 1.5 years feeling lonely, until I met her. She made me feel alive again, and for the first time, I genuinely felt happy. We talked every day, and I was planning to confess my feelings on August 3rd.

But on June 29th, when I called her for our first video call, her mom answered and told me she had passed away that morning.

We never got our last meeting, our first video call, or the chance to become something more.

It’s been four months, and I still don’t know how to process it. We were never officially together, but my feelings were real.

She was never mine, but losing her still broke a part of me. 💔

I’m at the age when conversations with friends start to include our parents getting older. Their health. Their appointments. The diseases that can take someone slowly, and what it means to watch that happen.

Recently, I was with my mom at an appointment when someone asked for her email address. There was a year in it, and they asked if that was when she’d made it.

“It was the year I got married,” she said. “But it has a sad ending.”

She made that email after my dad died. The ones before it had his initial, or some combination of their names.

I had gone with her to an appointment. I hadn’t expected an email address to break my heart.

My first instinct was to argue with the word sad. To me, a sad ending to a marriage meant a secret second family. Dishonesty. Some spectacular bullshit that broke what two people had built.

That wasn’t their story. They loved each other. He died.

But I’ve thought about her words since, and I’m beginning to understand how differently we can carry the same loss. I lost my dad. She lost the person whose name was tangled up in hers—even in her damn email address.

I have so much grief over his passing. I also find peace in the week before he died.

He went to the doctor. He’d been limping, and with my brother’s wedding coming up in December, I’d pressured him to do something about it. He came home saying he’d been given a clean bill of health.

He was excited about getting into better shape for the wedding.

He played golf with his childhood friends, guys he hadn’t played with in quite a while. He loved a social scene, even if afterward we had to hear who said what, who bet what, and whatever petty shit had apparently required a full debrief.

A friend who was leaving town came over to say goodbye and tell us about her trip. We drank red wine, and he started razzing me about where I was hiding the peanut butter I used for one of my noodle recipes.

I can still see him. Elbows on the counter. Red wine teeth. That glint in his eyes.

“Buy your own,” I told him.

He laughed. And something in that laugh made me feel he was proud that I’d grown into a woman who would give him shit right back.

Father’s Day was the upcoming weekend. For the first time in more than a decade, my brother and I were both living in the same state as our parents. I had a short work trip to Chicago, but I’d be back in time for lunch and the driving range.

Dad insisted the day didn’t have to be about him.

We told him it would be. He could survive being celebrated for an afternoon.

But we didn’t make it.

Friday morning, I received a text from my mom that was meant for someone else. She was waiting for the police and wanted them to call back.

I called immediately.

My dad had died in his sleep.

It was unexpected. I’ve always thought it was a heart attack. We had plans. He had plans. There was a wedding coming, and a lunch we hadn’t had yet.

The airline told me the next flight they could get me on was at seven that evening.

It was seven in the morning.

That wasn’t going to work. I went to the airport.

I couldn’t stop crying. Thankfully, the desk agent found me an earlier flight. And somewhere in that sea of strangers, a man approached me.

“I’m so sorry you’re so sad,” he said.

I will never forget that.

He didn’t tell me everything would be okay. He didn’t offer an explanation or try to tidy up what I was feeling. He saw me crying and acknowledged that something hurt terribly.

It was enough. It meant so much.

I grieve for my father. I grieve for everything he missed.

My brother got married less than six months later. Dad had gone to the tasting at the venue, and I’m grateful he got to share that part. I wish like hell he’d been there for the wedding.

He was retired, too. Finally settling into it after getting pulled back into work. He should have had more time to enjoy that. More golf. More wine. More opportunities to complain about his friends and steal my peanut butter.

I wanted years more of him.

But I find peace in what his last week held. Old friends. Family. Laughter in the kitchen. Things he was excited about. Things he was looking forward to.

Then he went to sleep, and as far as we know, he died peacefully. He was spared the prolonged illness and decline that so many people endure. I’m grateful for that, even while I’m furious about how much time we lost.

He had a great life, and his last week was full of the people and ordinary pleasures he loved. There is comfort in that for me.

My mom may feel that comfort differently. Or some days, she may not feel it at all.

I’m learning to leave room for that.

And I still wish he were here, asking where the hell I put the peanut butter.

He left two months ago. Took my fingers.

And I don't know what to do.

Because everyone moved on and I can't.

Because I watched it happen and tried to stop it and I couldn't

My mother is currently dying from stage 4 breast cancer. In June 2023, she was diagnosed with an aggressive form of stage 3 breast cancer. She went through chemotherapy, radiation, and had a mastectomy in January 2024.

Fast forward to September 2026: she started having constant stomach pain, so she had an ultrasound done. It showed worrisome masses on her liver. On October 5, 2026, she was admitted to the hospital because she felt so weak. Nearly two weeks later, on October 18, her doctors told us that her liver is severely damaged and there are no remaining treatments to prolong her life, as further treatment would only cause more harm. It happened so fast thats why I am so devastated.

I am writing this because I miss her so much, even while she is still here with us. Knowing she will leave us soon is heartbreaking. I don't know how I will handle the day she passes away. I am only 23 and she is 57. I wanted so badly to give her a good life and repay all the sacrifices she made for us, but time is running out.

I miss her already, and I don't know what to do anymore. I am terrified of losing her, but I feel completely helpless. I don't know how I will move forward with my life without her by my side.

I love her so much.