The Washington PostThe Washington Post

When my father died, I discovered the unmentionable stage of mourning: Relief

By Rosalie Metro

06 Dec 2022 · 15 min read

Editor's Note

Everyone has different ways of dealing with grief. This personal, touching piece from the Washington Post touches on one particular feeling that is often omitted from the conversation.

In my dreams, my dad is alive. He appears beside me in the grocery store clutching a list of items he wants me to purchase for him. They're always things that suit his esoteric taste but are difficult to find in Missouri, like teff flour or broccoli rabe. Or he calls me with complaints about the loud neighbors at his independent-living facility. But when I try to dial the manager to sort things out, the numbers on my phone start melting.

My dad died this past March, when my sister and I made the decision to withdraw life support after an unsuccessful cardiac procedure. I scattered his ashes beside the Pacific Ocean this spring.

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