My Father Died

My father died on April 19, 2025. He was buried 10 days later. I learned of his death and funeral on May 7, 2025…through Facebook. A high school friend’s mother, who I don’t remember, sent a Facebook text saying, “Sorry for your loss.” 

Jarring…

No one called, no one sent notice, no one informed my brothers or me of my dad’s final days and ending. 

Let me pause and note that I am not writing about this in a typical way. I’m not sad in the way people expect grief to look. I’m not heartbroken. I’m disappointed, confused. But even those emotions don’t quite sit right. Years of struggle where the distance never closed between us have landed me here. Let me briefly explain. Dad was never really a dad, and there’s a long, painful story behind that assessment. My mother suffered at his hands – literally- as did us kids. Nevertheless, we all tried to form relationships with him in different ways over the years. All attempts failed. 

My parents divorced in 1979, and my father fell into bitterness - until his death. He carried the emotional weight of being wronged for 46 years. Even after my mother died in 2008, he couldn’t let go of the perceived injustices linked to their marriage. I am deliberately calling it perceived, as the bitterness twisted his perception of the marriage and what happened as the years passed. Indeed, bitterness can leave a profound imprint on a person’s identity, worldview, and relationships. Over nearly five decades, this unresolved pain attributed, but unwarranted to my mother, transformed into something more than a sense of loss or anger – it became a way of being. He engaged in a persistent narrative of victimization, shaping and distorting his views of himself and others: “I was wronged.”

Over time, I believe this bitterness became a kind of self-protective armor—keeping connection out but also keeping pain in. Relationships never had a chance to heal or change. Thus, my disappointment, my confusion - the distance between us never closed. That, even in the days before his death, my brothers and I were kept on the outside. Whatever bitterness he carried was more potent than the pull of connection—or at least stronger than taking a step to let us know he was suffering. He actively told those around him not to contact any of us — andthen, he was just gone.

Embitterment has thus, been on my mind. This kind of long-held resentment can be virulent, spilling over into relational dynamics. Children, future partners, and friends encounter a version of the embittered individual who has kept the past alive through stories, anger, or silence. No vulnerable connection and emotional distance – perhaps even suspicion - the norm. Sometimes, loyalty is by the embittered is demanded in ways that echo the original wound, making new relationships feel like battlegrounds rather than havens — battling the oft-felt experience when interacting with my dad. 

Bitterness can also lead to profound loneliness and isolation – upon learning of his last days, I feel confident that this was what he experienced. The embittered person withdraws from family or struggles to trust others, held back by a sense of being morally right or forever wronged. This kind of isolation can intensify near the end of life as regrets surface but feel too deeply ingrained to unravel.

And, when someone passes still clutching old wounds, those left behind often inherit more than memories—they inherit the emotional residue. Children or estranged loved ones may wrestle with feelings of confusion, guilt, anger, or even relief. They may long for a conversation that will never happen. But even in that complexity, there is room for clarity and intention. You can mourn not just the person who died, but the relationship that never fully lived. And you can choose—deliberately—not to carry their bitterness forward. 

As a therapist, I think about embittered clients and their sometimes desperate need to hold on to the past or their inability to let go or forgive, unable to choose something different as they write their lives moving forward. Perhaps connection, perhaps love, could be the alternative. I have even gone as far as to wonder about suggesting this giant step: Forgive everyone, everything (A book title, written by Father Gregory Boyle). It is a tall request, given some histories I have encountered. And maybe letting go or forgiveness doesn’t have to be about connection, but simply stepping out of “the clutching” to the past. Maybe it’s just pure and simple freedom – emotional and psychological freedom - that I can hope for all of my clients. 

I will end by saying that I have encountered a quiet ache from time to time, wishing for the father that never was. I have wondered what might have been. But in the absence of the capacity to repair, in the stuckness of holding onto old pains, the experience of “a different kind of dad” will never be. I also know I can’t change how it was – history only goes in one direction. I can only decide how I want to carry it forward—for sure without bitterness, without trying to rewrite the past, and maybe with some peace that I get to choose a different path. It will take some time…these are complex matters in the face of death.

Personal Reflection: What Do I Carry?

You are invited to explore what you’ve learned—emotionally, relationally, and behaviorally—considering what you want to carry forward. Take a few minutes to ground yourself. Notice your breath. Consider reflecting on or journaling about the following questions: 

• What emotional or relational residue do I feel I’ve learned from those who came before me—especially those who were bitter, hurt, or unable to change?

• Are there unspoken rules or roles I’ve internalized (e.g., “stay silent,” “stay angry,” “don’t trust”)? Where did they come from?

• How have these inherited patterns influenced my own relationships, expectations, or reactions?

• In what ways might I have repeated or resisted those patterns?

• What am I still holding on to? Does it serve me?

• Is there anything I’m ready to carry differently—not erase or deny, but relate to in a new way?

• If I don’t want to carry the painful past forward, what do I want to carry?

If you’re a clinician, consider also reflecting on:

• How your own personal experiences shape your response to embittered or disconnected clients.

• What it means to “hope for freedom” for clients, while respecting their pace and protective strategies.

• Whether you’ve ever been tempted to bypass complexity with forgiveness, and how you might invite something softer—like letting go, space, or choice.

ACT Micro Practice: Honoring, Holding, and Choosing

Gently close your eyes or soften your gaze. Take one or two slow, steady breaths. Feel the support of the ground beneath you. You are here, in this moment.

Quietly name what you are carrying from the past that likely needs to be let go. Something that holds you back in some way or steals your time:

“I’m carrying disappointment…”

“I’m carrying grief…”

“I’m carrying longing…”

Acknowledge it like an old companion. No need to solve it. Just name it, and breathe.

I carry the ache…

Now, gently place one hand on your chest or stomach. Let your hand represent acknowledgment—not resistance or control and say to yourself: 

I choose to honor what was while freeing myself to live in a way that reflects who I want to be.

I can acknowledge what I never received and still move toward what matters most.

I carry the ache but not the bitterness.

Let the words land in your body as best you can. You don’t have to feel them right away—just plant the seed.

Research Spotlight: Continuing With the Theme

Bitterness is a complex emotional state that often arises from perceived injustice, betrayal, or unresolved interpersonal wounds. Core features include persistent intrusive thoughts, emotional arousal, and fantasies of revenge. When chronic and unaddressed, it can contribute to a distinct pattern of psychological suffering. Chronic bitterness is linked to depressive symptoms, generalized anxiety, and low life satisfaction. It is often associated with rumination, particularly in relation to perceived injustice and personal failure. Bitterness can disrupt healthy emotion regulation, leading to emotional stagnation, difficulty forgiving, and impaired relationship functioning. It often correlates with externalization of blame and difficulty accepting personal limitations or life circumstances. People who remain bitter may withdraw from social networks, feeling misunderstood or morally superior. This isolation can deepen resentment and perpetuate a sense of alienation. In some studies, high levels of embitterment correlate with suicidal ideation, particularly when combined with hopelessness and chronic rumination.

• Alexander, J. (1960). The psychology of bitterness. The International Journal of Psycho-Analysis, 41, 514. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/13682342/

• Kim, Y., Baik, S. Y., Jin, M. J., Choi, K. H., & Lee, S. H. (2020). The mediating effect of embitterment on the relationships between anxiety, depression, and suicidality. Psychotherapy and psychosomatics, 89(6), 395-397.

• Linden, M., & Rotter, M. (2018). Spectrum of embitterment manifestations. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 10(1), 1.

• Nanni, M. G., Caruso, R., Sabato, S., & Grassi, L. (2018). Demoralization and embitterment. Psychological Trauma: Theory, Research, Practice, and Policy, 10(1), 14–21. https://doi.org/10.1037/tra0000326

• Poggi, I., & D’Errico, F. (2010). The mental ingredients of bitterness. Journal on multimodal user interfaces, 3, 79-86. https://doi.org/10.1007/s12193-009-0021-9

• Wrosch, C., Bauer, I., & Scheier, M. F. (2005). Regret and quality of life across the adult life span: The influence of disengagement and available future goals. Psychology and Aging, 20(4), 657–670.

  https://doi.org/10.1037/0882-7974.20.4.657

Events and Resources

Go here to get a guided imagery exercise called: Mindfulness Exercise: We Are All In This Together