Special Ways to Celebrate Father’s Day When Your Dad is Gone

By Daniel G. Amen, MD

Father’s Day will be different this year. With the ongoing pandemic and physical distancing, many families won’t be celebrating the way they usually do. For me, this holiday will never be the same since my dad died earlier this year. Many of you may also be missing your late fathers on this special day. Be prepared that the holiday may give rise to feelings of grief and sadness which is completely normal. For others, it may bring on a depressive episode. And for those whose parents died in a violent or sudden way it may trigger symptoms associated with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Whatever feelings arise, remember that there are a variety of ways to honor your late father, even if he passed years ago. See if any of the following ideas resonate with you.

1. Create a tribute video.

Using your smartphone, tell a memorable story about your dad or narrate a slideshow, and share it with your family or on your social media pages. Sharing what made your father special to you can put a smile on your face. And it’s likely to generate support from others that can help fill the void you may be feeling.

2. Visit his final resting place.

Spend some time at your father’s gravesite (if it’s allowed in light of the pandemic), if that helps you feel closer to him. Talk to him as if he were still alive.

3. Do something he loved.

Did the two of you like gardening, playing golf, or fixing cars together? Relive those times by engaging in that activity again. Say a few words in his memory before you start.

4. Visit his favorite spot.

Did your dad love watching the sunset from the top of a local hiking trail? Did he enjoy sitting on a park bench and watching the people passing by? Did he feel most at home just hanging out in the garage? Visit this spot, if possible, and try to see it through his eyes.

5. Write to (or about) your dad.

Some people find comfort in writing a letter to their late father every year. Share the things in your life that you wish you could have told him in person and read it out loud on Father’s Day. Or you can write something about him. When my father died this year, I wrote the following poem for him and it helped me process my feelings.

Good Grief … He’s Everywhere In My Brain

I see him in every flower that blooms; he was a master gardener,

I see him in every brilliant Pacific sunset; which he loved to photograph repeatedly,

I see him every time we play cards and someone says gin; he was a master strategist who stomped us all,

I see him in his big chair surrounded by his grandchildren; he was a great, great grandfather,

I see him in every brain we scan because he helped me invest in our first imaging cameras, and

I see him every time I check my Schwab account and look at the UNFI stock he recommended, which goes up and down like my emotions since he left.

Good Grief … he’s everywhere in my brain.

I hear his beautiful deep voice saying, … “Danny, it’s your dad, give me a call, I have tangerines, avocados, and lemons.”  When I want to cry and have good grief, I play his voicemails over and over.

I hear him when the television blares too loud because like me he has trouble hearing and won’t wear hearing aids,

I hear him whenever someone says “bullshit” or “no” or “I’m the boss, do what I say”; he was a very strong leader,

I hear him whenever I hear a tennis ball hit a racquet, as we had so many great games together. (pause)

I hear him when he tells me I can do anything I put my mind to; he encouraged so many people and set us all up for success.

Good Grief … he’s everywhere in my brain.

I sense him whenever I smell a sweet orange from his ranch or a gardenia from his garden,

I sense him every time I go into a supermarket; it was his life,

I sense him every time someone calls me a maverick; because I inherited it from him,

I sense him whenever we go on vacation because he taught us that families have fun together.

I sense him whenever our very large family gathers, which he and my mother created with love.  When I told my mother that cinnamon was a natural aphrodisiac, she hit her forehead and said that’s why we have 7 children he would never leave me alone. Lebanese cook with a lot of cinnamon.

Good Grief … he’s everywhere in my brain.

I feel him every time I lift weights, as we did so many Sunday workouts together,

I feel him whenever I do a plank, knowing he will go longer than anyone in the room, even me because he was so stubborn,

I feel him every time I walk Mr. Vinnie.  I remember buying him for dad because he was so sad when the original Vinnie died.  He loved his dogs … sometimes more than his kids.

I feel him every time I remember kissing the top of his head when I’d say see you next week, and

I’ll always feel his soft hands before they took him away the day he died.

Good Grief … he’s everywhere in my brain and is intricately woven into the fabric of my soul.

He was bold, brilliant, outspoken, and the essence of the American Dream.  I won’t lie, early on it was hard being his son … the boss’s kid.  How could anyone live up to the success he created. As a grocer he fed thousands, he was a leader in his industry and a financial wizard.  He was tough, opinionated, and yes I know many of you don’t want to hear it, but he could be brutal.  He used to say, “I don’t get heart attacks, I give them.”

In 1980 when I told him I wanted to be a psychiatrist, he asked me why I didn’t want to be a real doctor, why did I want to be a nut doctor and hang out with nuts all day long?  It hurt my feelings.  He later came to respect what I did and sent me many, many patients.  Apparently, he also knew a lot of nuts 😊. 

Good grief … my father is everywhere in my brain …

From longing for his approval as a child while he was away working to build an empire …

To adopting his work ethic … he was working the day he died, and I suspect I will be working too when my time comes …

To finally being one of my best friends in the last years of his life and the father who was perfect for me.

If you’re suffering from grief, depression, anxiety, or other issues, understand that mental health problems can’t wait. During these uncertain times, your mental well-being is more important than ever, and waiting until life gets back to “normal” is likely to make your symptoms worsen over time.

At Amen Clinics, we’re here for you. We offer in-clinic brain scanning and appointments, as well as mental telehealth, remote clinical evaluations, and video therapy for adults, children, and couples. Find out more by speaking to a specialist today at 888-288-9834. If all our specialists are busy helping others, you can also schedule a time to talk.