Tamsin’s story

In January 2016, my Dad was diagnosed with oesophageal cancer. Over the next 9 months he went through various treatments- chemotherapy, surgery, radiotherapy- but nothing was able to make him better. Dad passed away on 7th October 2016, surrounded by his family. I was 21 when he died.  

I had the privilege of being with my Dad when he passed away. In the hours before, I sat with him, read to him and told him that I loved him. I was able to support the person who had supported me my entire life, and I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to do that.  

But in the moments after he died, I just remember being overcome with one thought “I’m not ready for this”. At 21, there was still so much I needed my Dad for and I didn’t know how to face a future without him. 

Hiding from my grief 

At first, my way of coping with Dad’s death was to hide from it. I think I did this for a lot of reasons. I didn’t know how to process what happened but I also didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, especially my family who were also going through so much.   

Two weeks after Dad died I went back to university to complete my Masters, and slipped back into my life there. I was conscious that I didn’t want to miss out but I also didn’t want to be seen as different. I think this was another big reason that I tried to hide from my grief.  

You’re not taught how to deal with grief 

When my Dad was diagnosed with cancer, I had some friends who distanced themselves from me. Now I understand it was because we were young and they didn’t know what to say or do, so it was easier to just avoid me. You’re not taught how to deal with grief, let alone what to do when someone else is grieving. With hindsight and experience on my side, I can sympathise but at the time it was difficult.  

I was determined not to have this happen again, so I pushed my grief down; only showing people the side of me I wanted them to see. I didn’t want to be ‘the girl whose Dad just died’ because I didn’t think anyone would want to be friends with her. I can see now this was a disservice to my closest friends, who were incredibly supportive when I did start to share with them how I was feeling. 

Acknowledging how I was feeling 

Pushing grief down doesn’t make it go away. In my case, I think it made things worse. All those feelings were building inside me and at some point they were going to come out, and they did.  

Two years after my Dad died, I finally started to acknowledge my grief. Things I had only whispered to myself, I started to tell other people. First my partner, who had supported me through Dad’s illness and after he died, and slowly others. I reached out to my two oldest friends and told them I wasn’t doing ok and I needed help. Sending that message was terrifying but they were so supportive. It was after this that I contacted Cruse. 

Through my sessions with Cruse, I was able to unpack the feelings I had pushed down. It was difficult but after each session I felt a little lighter. It didn’t make my grief go away, I don’t think anything will, but it helped me to see that I could build a life around it. I also realised that I didn’t need to be ashamed of my grief, and if I wanted to talk about it then I should.  

Living with grief  

It’s my 30th birthday this year, which will mark the first decade of my life that my Dad won’t be here for. Processing and accepting this, as best I can, has been difficult. There are so many milestones and moments in my life that Dad has already missed, and there will be more to come. I miss him every day but there are certain times I feel his absence more- whether that’s a big occasion, when I need his advice or when all you want is just a hug from your Dad. 

It has been important to find ways to include Dad, and make sure he’s still a part of my life moving forward- for big and small moments. From my wedding day, where I walked down the aisle to a recording of him singing, to cooking his favourite recipes or going on walks we used to. When there’s something I wish I could tell him, I write him letters. After years of bottling things up, I’ve found it’s better to find a way to express these feelings. 

Grief is still part of my everyday life. It doesn’t go away, and the pain of missing my Dad is just as strong as the day he died. But I have found ways to live alongside my grief and accept that it’s always going to be a part of me. My grief is proof of the love I have for my Dad, and I would never want to be without that.