How to Keep Working When Your Dad Dies

This is the story of how I found myself standing in my garden at nine this morning, watching the butterflies and crying, and why I am perfectly okay with that.

It seems like forever ago that I was wrapping up my last year as a middle school science teacher. I taught seventh graders about chemistry and earthquakes, photosynthesis and sex ed. I also coached a robotics team and was the grade level leader. I was burning the candle at both ends, and I wasn't entirely sure this job was right for me, but I would probably have done it forever had my Dad not been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease.

At the time of his diagnosis, the doctors told us that people with his "level" of the disease can have another happy decade with the right medications, diet, and exercise, and if they successfully eliminate stress from their daily lives. For reasons I won't get into on the internet, these were things my father was unable to do, and it wasn't long before things were progressing at a dizzying speed. Watching my Dad lose the ability to take care of himself was the layer of stress that finally pushed me to leave teaching. At the time of his diagnosis, I was picturing shaking fingers unable to button shirts, coffee splashing to the floor, and trouble with balance. It turned out to be nothing like I was picturing.

At the same time that all of this was going on, I was incredibly lucky to land a job in sales enablement. Teaching adults was a logical progression to me. What made me even more lucky was getting to work for one of the best human beings I've encountered yet, Kelly Dowd. We accomplished so much as a tiny team of two. I learned to use Articulate Storyline and published a ton of content to our growing sales team. We worked hard together and still made time to chat about true crime and for me to give Kelly updates on Dad. He was having some memory issues, but was doing just fine.

I was nearing six months in my current role and finally feeling confident, competent, and ready to take on some big stuff. I had an amazing manager, was feeling inspired having just attended our kick-off event in Palm Beach, and was enrolling in professional development courses. I had a feeling that 2023 would be the year for making giant leaps. I was even teaching yoga on the side and planning to add another class to my weekly schedule.

Then, I got a call from my sister. She told me I needed to fly to California as soon as I possibly could. I was on a flight the next morning, sipping terrible coffee and frantically thinking of meetings I had forgotten to reschedule, and by the following morning, my Dad had died. We spent eighteen hours with him while he transitioned from life to death. Every meal was eaten and every nap was taken (or not taken) within that same room. The sun rose on a pile of uneaten Chinese takeout. Now came the impossible job of figuring out what to do next.

We learned that my Dad had had Lewy Body Dementia (LBD), a fast-moving disease closely associated with Parkinson's Disease. Read more about LBD here.

I was blindsided by my Dad's death. He was and is an incredibly important person in my life. And as someone who has always exercised and self-help-booked herself out of the inevitable valleys of life, I was at a complete loss. Now, almost five months after my Dad died, I want to share the three things that actually (like, really) helped me grieve at work:

1. Take your bereavement time. There are no trophies awarded for abstaining from any kind of time off (if there are, consider a career change), but especially this kind. Wait until you feel ready to return, and then take another three days. Thank me later.
2. Use your employee benefits to see a therapist. Grief is not something anyone should have to weather alone. A therapist can give you practical tools for getting back into the swing of things.
3. Get back into a routine. When you're ready, decide on some non-negotiable habits to start rebuilding into your life. This one is definitely the hardest, so start small. Allow your grief to come along for the ride. And my advice - don't try to go back to the exact routine that used to work for you.

Now, four-ish months after his passing, I'm so grateful that I took all of the bereavement time I could. My therapist has given me tools to be productive while allowing space for grief to come in waves, and I still meet with her every Thursday. My routine is starting to look a lot like it did back in January. The biggest lasting difference is that I schedule time to go stand in my garden. My Dad loved plants and insects of all kinds, so being out there makes me feel closer to him.

And, if I could add a fourth tip, be gentle on yourself. Grief changes and challenges you like nothing else. You've got this.