Fernando Schaffenburg ~ April 2, 1925 – March 6, 2009
Letting go of my late father is the hardest experience I’ve dealt with thus far in my life. So hard, in fact, that I was unwilling to accept it for a year and a half. It wasn’t until my first memoir writing class in New York where I started delving into my self, that it hit me. Clear as day.
Up until then I thought I had accepted his tragic death but turns out, I hadn’t. I’d merely run away from the pain and covered it up. So from that moment on, with the assistance of a wonderful therapist, I began to heal.
And the writing process helped enormously. By putting words to a page, I was forced to accept the reality of my life. The reality of which my father was no longer physically a part of. A reality I had always thought, I would never survive.
But it wasn’t until a year later watching a clip from Oprah’s Lifeclass that I was finally able to let go. Fully let go.
You see, the main reason I’d had such a hard time letting him go, besides the fact that he knew me better than anyone else on this planet, was the injustice of his death. It was the fault of the doctors or else he might still be with us today, on his birth day. But, he fell victim to malpractice.
So as you can imagine, there was a lot of anger. But once I saw Gary Zukav on Lifeclass coaching a young mom who was stuck in the loss of one of her two-day old twins, it hit.
Her inability to move forward was keeping the whole family tied up in the events of the past. But Zukav urged her to be grateful, as painful as it was. To see it as a gift that this soul came to be with her. That this soul chose her and no one else. That time is not what mattered but that she was able to share a life with this beautiful being, if only for a few short days.
In short, Zukav changed the mother’s perspective. From one of lack and loss, to one of gratitude. And this is what sent her forward on her healing process. And consequently, propelled mine forward as well.
I was finally able to see how lucky I was to have been blessed with such a magnificent father. Grateful that I was gifted with 31 years of my life with him. And grateful that he lived to the age he did.
I can now fully celebrate his life instead of grieve.
Letting go of a loved one is never easy but if we can see the gift that we’re given, instead of the gift that was taken away, we ensure the reality of just one death. Instead of two. Not sacrificing our lives for the loss of another but fully and joyfully moving forward with the gift of our own life.
I know this isn’t an easy subject, but I’d love to hear your thoughts if you’d like to share.
For a clip of the video that rocked my world, click here.
For a valuable resource on grief, click here.
Ingrid Schaffenburg's Blog 
Letting go is one of the hardest lessons and I doubt we ever fully master it. Sometimes things don’t work out and it’s just hard to part ways. We can’t bear to part with a book we’ve put so many hundreds of hours into, but we need to write another book. We have to let go of a family member who refuses to not act in toxic, destructive ways. Instead of grieving what was, we grieve the death of a vision, of what could have been.
Beautiful post.
Thank you Kristen 🙂 I think life is nothing but a series of changes and letting go. That’s why it’s so important to enjoy each and every moment.
Beautifully said Ingrid and touched my heart. I can relate to your experience so profoundly. My father was killed in a car accident that was not his fault. The driver of a 1/2 ton truck hit a piece of black ice and hit my Dad head on killing him instantly. I was 16 years old. And I didn’t deal with his death for 3 years when I fell into a deep depression and had no choice but to face the pain. I did so with a great therapist and writing as well. I also had to let go of anger and blame. And I had a massive change in perspective – instead of thinking of my Dad and our relationship as dead, I decided to see it as “different”. I started writing letters to him, talking to him, praying to him and listening with my heart to hear his guidance and feel his love. And slowly but surely, I found myself healing and our relationships taking place on a new level. It’s not the same but it does exist and I feel his presence in my life now more than ever. And I am grateful for everything his death has brought to my life. Yes…I wish he was here but after 21 years, I can look and see how it has also enriched my life. Last year, I finally tracked down the driver of the vehicle and let him know that I understood it was an accident, that it was out of his control, and that I no longer blamed him…and that I forgave him…
Another step in healing.
I hear your pain and struggle Ingrid and I know how hard it is to let go. So proud of you for finding that path and enriching your life by celebrating his life. I know your Dad is watching over you and your family with love and grace…your very own guardian angel…
HUGS!!!
Thank you for such a beautiful comment Natalie. And for sharing your tragic experience. I love that you started communicating with him but in different ways. I’ve started to do the same 🙂 And it’s pretty profound. So glad that you too were finally able to experience a shift in perception. And yes… forgiveness is huge! Without it, it’s really difficult to move on. Thank you again 🙂
Such a touching post, Ingrid. Writing and other art forms have helped me cope and heal in so many ways. For me, the actual letting go part seems the toughest—like the crazy storm that makes way for rainbows. Glad you’ve found your way to the brighter side!
Thank you August. And yes, letting go is incredibly hard. It’s a practice. Now I get “Savor the Storm.” There’s always beauty for our ashes. Always 🙂
What a beautiful sentiment, Ingrid. Happy Birthday to your daddy. He’s with you still and always will be. It warms my heart that you came to a place of gratitude and was able to let go. Now you can fully live your life and be that positive light in other’s lives that your dad was in yours. Huge hugs to you and your wonderful dad. Like Natalie said, he’s your very own guardian angel. Always.
Thank you Tameri 🙂 And I do believe that. I know he’s with me all the time 🙂
I lost my Dad to natural causes when he was very old, and I still miss him every day.
I’ve come to feel that our loved ones are always in our hearts.
❤ : )
Absolutely. They never leave us 🙂
Letting go is so darned hard Ingrid. My dad was not like yours…quite the opposite actually. And get when he died I mourned him. And i had to let go. my sisters are doing this now with my mom who has Alzheimers.
Good for you for doing it.
Thank you Louise 🙂 And yes… I think letting go is one of the hardest things we have to do. It’s a choice. But life is far better when we choose to just let it go.
So beautiful Ingrid, and so true. It is all about changing your perspectives in life and letting go. Love this! Hugs to you 🙂
Thank you beauty 🙂 Hugs to you and your beautiful family!
This was a beautiful tribute to the love you have for your dad. I am very close to my dad and can’t imagine life without him so my heart does ache for your loss. I adore the picture! Your father’s face is full of joy! And no wonder, look at that darling bundle in his arms.
Someone reminded me over the weekend that I was “the apple of his eye.” And that is the love I still carry with me to this day and always will. Cherish every day with your dad 🙂
This is a lovely observation on your father’s birthday, Ingrid.
Letting go of anything important is never easy, but especially someone whom one loves so dearly. I don’t think we are ever really ready for such a loss. Yet our loved ones remain in an inner sacred space where they will always be cherished and can never be replaced.
When we love someone we ultimately want what is best for him or her and death is the only gateway to heaven (a graduation in a sense). However, while that spiritual outlook believes that the beloved has moved to a better place, an absence lingers in a way that is difficult to accept. Many people do not actually take the time to grieve or do not know how and it simmers underneath (this is why religions call for a mourning period…the Jewish faith actually specifies 30 days of mourning for someone close).
Yesterday marked 16 years since my grandmother died. She had a great sense of humor, choosing April Fools Day! She was essentially my surrogate mother and her loss left a deep impression just as her life did. Like you, I thought I had dealt with it, but a meloncholy lingered until I was compelled to grieve about a year or so later. Then spiritual healing took over and my entire life was renewed.
Subsequently, I chose to pursue music and one reason was because art can encourage healing (for self and others). But the real process of transformation must occur in the spirit. Keep celebrating…with gratitude!
Beautiful George. And you are right. Art is incredibly healing but it’s up to us to start the internal process of healing. Everyone does it on their own time but I like that certain religions do specify a finite mourning period. It’s important and helps keep things moving forward. Thanks for your kind thoughts!
I lost my dad six weeks after my first child, a daughter, was born. I had nightmares for weeks beforehand of his death. I even called to make sure he was okay. He was a stubborn man and didn’t take care of himself medically. He didn’t treat his diabetes and died because of it. A few days after his death, I had another dream of him carrying me then he turned into Jesus and he wanted me tell my family everything was okay and to be happy. I tried to do this, but most of my family didn’t believe my dreams. I still know, somehow, his death was foreseen by me and the healing he imparted in me in the last dream has stayed with me. My father was the only one that figured out about the abuse in my marriage from the start. He tried to have my mother, then brother talk me out of marrying my ex but neither felt it was their place. When he died, my ex refused to allow me to mourn him because his mother and her new husband (#5) were in town and it might “spoil” things for her. Oh, it so aggravates me the lies I believed, the love I thought my ex had for me, but now I see it for the illusion it was. I went to visit my dad’s gravesite (for the last time) and I was alone and I remember how I asked God for a sign that he was in his care. The biggest deer I’d ever seen poked its way out of the woods, stared into my eyes, and was gone. My father loved to hunt. Such peace stole over me. I knew then my dreams were true and he was among loved ones, resting, until such time as we can be together again.
That’s beautiful Traci. He sounds like he was a wonderful father. Amazing that you had those dreams and you saw the deer. You must’ve been pretty well connected with him. I’ve had a cardinal following me for the last year. And experienced some pretty amazing things myself 🙂 Thank you for sharing 🙂
It’s so funny to see this about the cardinal, Ingrid. Whenever my husband and I go to Big Sur where we spread part of my mom’s ashes, a blue jay shows up almost immediately and follows us through the park. It doesn’t matter what season it is, or where in the park we go, a blue jay lands right next to us and hangs out.
Beautifully put and I couldn’t agree more. When I was in my early 20s, my best friend who was like a sister to me was killed by a drunk driver. I pretty much got frozen in the time after her death. I didn’t know how to let her go and start to figure out what life would look like without her in it. It took me a long time to accept the time I had with her for the gift it was and for the lasting impression it would have on me and to move forward. I feel like I honor her life by always striving to be the kind of person she would have been proud to have as a friend.
That’s beautiful Marcy. I feel the same with my father. That’s how we can honor them is through our actions here on earth 🙂 So sorry you had to go through that. Can’t even imagine how horrible that must’ve been.
That was a very beautiful post, and so important. My biological father died when I was a young child, so I didn’t have struggles with letting go. It was simply what I had know for most of my life. But sometimes, now, I wonder what it would have been like to know him as an adult. I was lucky enough to have the best step father a girl could have, who is the father I have known for most of my life. But every once in a while I wonder what it would be like to know people who are genetically related to me. But it’s just a curiosity, not something I hold on to.
Reblogged this on Inspiredweightloss.
I loved the phots you included with your post. Thank you for the message and images.
Thank you 🙂
Oh my goodness, I feel some of your pain of loss. I just lost my Dad not a year ago. His death was so different, Alzheimer’s took him, piece by piece, slowly, agonizingly, and excruciatingly slowly. For me, and for him. He actually went through it very quickly in comparison to so many others.
Had I not blogged about it, I would have gone bat-shit crazy. Hang in there, keep writing, and remember to give yourself permissions.
Thank you Sandra. SO sorry for the delayed response. Don’t know how I missed you! Thank you for sharing. And thank goodness we have our writing 🙂 It heals in wondrous ways.
Ingrid, I felt this way when I lost my mom in 2004, for exactly the same reasons. Bad medical care ended her life and robbed us all of her golden years. It took me a long while to come to terms with it.
I will say that as the events of life unfold – the birth of a child, a wedding, and really any of the important milestones – the raw middle that remains at the center of this sort of wound will get rubbed. That has been one of the hardest lessons for me: there WILL be rough days and that’s OK.
I also think you’re blessed to have had such a wonderful father. Like Louise, I didn’t get that blessing, BUT I had a mother who made up for all of it. I salute you for celebrating your father with such a wonderful tribute. 🙂
Love you Jenny!
Back atcha, sister!