Losing a parent at a young age: a personal insight.

Ready for a post that may be a little more personal than usual?

In previous posts, the wooden Fellows and I wrote about grieving and shared resources available to help young children navigate tough times. However, after discovering the book Empty and Me by Mahdavi and illustrated by Tahmasebi, I felt compelled to share something more personal. This book moved me deeply, and I felt a renewed urge to reflect on my own experience of losing my father at the age of four. I hope that by sharing my story, I can help those who have gone through similar journeys, or those who know someone who has.

As many of you know, the carving of wooden puppets—who came from the imagination of my daughter Rosie when she was four—has become a healing process for me. Six months into the creation of Giggles and Chisels, LLC, I am happily noticing how much each puppet feels like a part of me: Maurice, with his morosity; Petite Clothilde, with her big dreams and constant focus on caring for others; Mme Rigolotte, with her wisdom brought by age; and Pierre Qui Roule, always connected to nature. After all, you might catch me holding trees from time to time.

In other words, each of these characters has grown into more than just a puppet; they are, somehow, pieces of me. Today, as I reflect on my own experience of losing a parent at a young age, I am using Maurice to write words that I wish I had read at different stages of my life. Through him, I am putting into words the emotions and lessons I have gathered over the years. In doing so, I hope to offer something that might ease someone else’s path.

Few words from Maurice, to my younger self:

• Your dad died. His heart stopped beating. You may be tempted to think it is not true, that he may come back. He won’t.
• Nothing will be the same from now on, but that does not mean joy will never return.
• Everyone close to you will have to deal with their own grief, at their own pace, using their own coping skills. You will often feel sad, lonely, and helpless. Even angry from time to time.
• People will struggle to know what to say when they find out you lost your dad at 4, even 10, 20, or 30 years later. Give them the space to learn from you.
• Don’t be afraid to talk about him. Ask questions. Keep his memory alive.
• Be prepared for mixed emotions when you see your own children with their dad—a profound joy mixed with the painful reminder of what you missed.

• 

  Becoming a young adult will hurt. Find a way to grieve at each stage of your life, and allow yourself to heal in different ways over time. Grieving is a journey, not a destination.
• Find peace in books, music, and art. Accept the flow of tears.
• Find your people. You’ll know who they are when you notice you can be your true self around them.
• At some point, you will start healing. This is the most moving and powerful feeling—the most beautiful gift life can offer, as you’ll finally start living again. This is what you should look forward to in your darkest times.
• It will not always be easy, but your resilience will prevail. You will lead an amazing life, despite one of the most traumatic childhood events a young child can endure. I am so, so proud of you.

~~~~~

Each story is unique, each grieving journey is different. But I hope many of you find peace in Maurice’s words.