I was raised by a single dad. Even though he died 2 years ago, I'm still learning how to grieve.
My dad was a Jamaican immigrant who beat all odds and became an entrepreneur.
My mom died when I was 19 and I when my dad died many years later, I thought I knew how to grieve.
But our relationship was different, we had a unique bond, and so the pain was different.
My dad was the living embodiment of the American dream and my hero. He wasn't a superhero in a billion-dollar blockbuster — he was a real-life miracle worker, seemingly making the impossible a reality.
A Jamaican immigrant with only a fourth-grade education, my father arrived in Providence, Rhode Island, armed with nothing but an indomitable spirit. Against all odds, he became a successful entrepreneur and accomplished his goal of providing a good life for his family.
My earliest memories of my dad are from when he was 40, just two years younger than I am now. That's when he "made it."
In 1994, we moved from our cramped apartment into what was once his workshop. He transformed it into a cozy one-story home and later added a second level. Our new home featured a circular driveway, a white fence, a brick gate, and a balcony off the master bedroom. For a man who grew up with an outside toilet — an outhouse, as they call it back home — and walked his neighborhood streets barefoot, he'd accomplished the ultimate dream, providing a good life for his family.
I thought I knew how to grieve
The bond we shared was unique. We're both Geminis, with birthdays just four days apart, creating a dynamic that often felt like looking into a mirror — sometimes a reflection I wasn't ready to face. He raised me as a single parent after my mom began shuttling between her native Chicago and Providence when I was 9. This was the 90s, a time before FaceTime, emails, or voice notes. Parenting happened through letters, phone calls, and annual visits. Tragically, my mother died when I was 19.
When I lost my dad in 2022, I foolishly thought I knew how to grieve, having already lost my mom. But I was wrong. The relationship was different, and the pain was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
The only time I didn't see him regularly was during the pandemic, when FaceTime calls from Los Angeles to the East Coast kept us connected. Once we were both vaccinated, I flew home to see him. A few days before I arrived, he suggested a road trip to New Jersey to visit family. I was annoyed at the last-minute change because I already had plans with friends in motion, but I still agreed to take the trip, and I'm so glad that I did. The spontaneous trip to Jersey during Labor Day weekend 2021 took me back to my childhood, filled with road trips to the Jamaica Colosseum Mall in Queens, NY, with old-school soca music providing the soundtrack.
That trip was the last time I saw him.
I still struggle to find the words to describe how I feel
Though the world didn't end during the pandemic, mine shattered. I lost my father under traumatic circumstances — until this day, his case is unsolved and remains a missing persons case. Navigating grief while playing amateur detective and trying to hold on to some semblance of life was the hardest thing I've ever faced. Almost three years later, I still struggle to find the words to articulate how I feel. Through it all, this experience has deepened my empathy and driven me to help others in their grief, believing that no one should have to navigate such pain alone.
This inspiration led me to create "Sorry For Your Loss (Cards)." This greeting card company and community aim to support those grieving by providing resources and simplifying how to show up for someone you love during the most difficult time in their life. Each card features a heart-shaped QR code, allowing recipients to share how they need people to show up for them because dealing with loss is hard enough — helping someone heal shouldn't be. My hope is to not only support people through their grief but also to help restore their joy. Our community events will reflect this energy, incorporating wellness practices and uplifting activities.
Here's how I honor my dad during Father's Day
While I miss my father terribly, I've found a lot of healing and inspiration through my grief. This doesn't mean I don't have difficult days; it's just changed my outlook on life. Now, I have more appreciation for the people I love and my experiences. I'm also more present than I was in the past.
If your father has transitioned into your guardian angel, here are some heartfelt ways to honor him:
Write a letter: Pouring your feelings onto paper can be a therapeutic release.
Visit a significant place: Revisit a location filled with cherished memories.
Donate: Make a contribution to a charity in your father's honor. Last year, we honored my dad with a memorial at the local library in my childhood neighborhood.
Gather with friends and family: Surround yourself with loved ones to share stories and love.
Request letters or videos: Ask family and friends to share their favorite memories of your dad, creating a collection to revisit whenever you miss him.
Create a dad playlist: Compile songs that remind you of your father.
Honor yourself: If your relationship with your father was complicated, it's OK to take your time and decide how or if you want to celebrate his life.
There's no right way to grieve. Only you can determine the best way to remember and honor your loved one
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