In Memory of My FatherOn Grief That Still Lives Decades Later
- Deborah M. Jackson
- 23 minutes ago
- 4 min read

It’s been decades since my father died.And still—there are days and moments when I feel the deep ache of missing him and the unmistakable absence of his presence in my daily life.
The pitch and punch of that grief have shifted, but the experience of his absence across my life has never gone away. The role my dad held in my life—in more ways than I can count—has been woven into who I am. His presence finds me in milestones, in memories of our conversations, in things I’m doing, thoughts I’m having, familiar smells, trials, disappointments, victories, and joys.
Dreams continue to be a significant place where I experience my daddy in very real, present ways.
While I have shared many letters about grief, I can say as a counselor that grief remains one of the top three realities people are navigating. Grief casts an extremely wide net across the human experience—for countless reasons, in countless forms.
How Grief Can Look and Feel After Decades
In my counseling work with those grieving the death of a loved one, I often meet people who say, “It’s been years. I should be over this by now.”
That belief comes from an outdated understanding of grief—what psychology has commonly referred to as “stages of grief.”
These stages were developed by Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross and published in her 1969 book, On Death and Dying. Importantly, her work was based on her experiences with terminally ill patients, not bereaved loved ones.
Yes—1969.And yes—the entire model was built around a specific kind of grief: the anticipatory grief of terminal illness.
Why am I sharing this?To offer knowledge and context that can empower, illuminate, and liberate.
Because human beings are not equations, and love is not measurable.Not all grief involves terminal illness.Not all people process relationships the same way.Not all relationships carry the same depth, complexity, or history.Not all losses are alike.
And the list goes on.
Grief is cyclical.Grief is relational.Grief is embodied.Grief is spiritual.Grief is deeply personal.
Yet for decades, clinical settings attempted to categorize, protocol, assess, intervene, and fix grief through stage-based models. And those ideas spread everywhere—even into churches.
What We Know Now
Modern research has shown that grief is not something we “get over.”Rather, we integrate it.We learn to adjust—and then readjust—our lives to the ongoing realities of the loss.
Contemporary bereavement frameworks such as the Continuing Bonds Model, Attachment-Based Theory, and Meaning Reconstruction all affirm that maintaining connection with those who have died is not pathology—it is love finding a new form.
What looks like “holding on” is often the soul’s way of saying:
I will never stop loving them, even from here.
In fact, it is entirely normal to feel resurgences of grief years—and even decades—later. Time and distance from their death create a new layer of ache:the grief within the grief,the sorrow that grows as the world moves farther away from the day they last lived.
The closer you are to their death, the closer you still are to their physical presence. As time stretches, the longing changes shape, but it remains real.
A Theological Grounding
Even Jesus knew the ache of anticipated absence.
He told His disciples plainly that He was going away.He knew they would grieve—deeply.
And in His mercy, He did not vanish once and for all.He appeared to them repeatedly—walking beside them on the road,breaking bread with them by the sea,showing His wounds to anchor them in this truth:
I am still with you.
“And behold, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”— Matthew 28:20
For clients who process grief through the lens of their faith, the life of Christ offers profound meaning it affirms that our longing is not delusion—it is design.We miss what we love because we were made for eternal connection.
And many do, in fact, experience the presence of their deceased loved ones—often through dreams, memories, spiritual encounters, and the quiet language of the heart.
A Refuge in Grief
So if your grief still rises decades later—you are not failing. You are human.
It’s not regression. It's not weakness. It's not “not doing it right.”It’s love, still alive in you.
Grief becomes a kind of refuge—a sacred space where memory, the Holy Spirit, and love remains intertwined and it is the echo of the same promise Christ gave His friends:
You will see me again.
In remembrance of my father, who died 34 years ago today, and in honor of everyone still carrying love across time—
Deborah M. Jackson, MA, MDiv, BCC, PLPC
If today’s letter touches something tender in you, I want to gently share that I’ll be hosting a contemplative Prayer Gathering on February 20th for anyone carrying grief, caregiving stories, or memories that still live close to the heart.
Whether you live here or far away, you are welcome to take notice, pray with us in spirit, or join us if you’re able.
More details will be shared soon

Resource Notes
Evidence-based grief frameworks referenced:
Stroebe & Schut, Dual Process Model (1999)
Klass, Silverman & Nickman, Continuing Bonds (1996)
Neimeyer, Meaning Reconstruction (2001)
Maxwell & Perrine (2016), The Problem of God in the Presence of Grief: Exchanging “Stages” for “Trajectories” of Recovery




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