When an abusive parent dies

This is pretty long and just one of those getting-it-out-in-writing things, but even for those who don't read it, if anyone would be willing to share their experiences with an abusive parent passing away, I would like to read others' stories.

I know that I have a lot of unresolved issues regarding my father, things deeply buried and pushed away for several years. But my father is very likely going to die soon, and I guess part of me is trying to prepare for it in advance somehow, or at least try to predict how I might react when it happens. My emotions regarding my father most of the time are very suppressed and only surface rarely and unexpectedly, and then it's usually be ugly, though brief.

All throughout my childhood my father was very abusive - emotionally, mentally, verbally, physically and sexually. But he was also a typical manipulative, Jekyll & Hyde slimeball. I was extremely isolated and didn't have any childhood friends, and my mother was more so the NPD rejecting/neglecting type. So my father was like my only 'friend'.

From my childhood perspective I tried to focus on the "good dad" and the "friend" and disassociate from the bad parts. Like both my father and I were very into herpetology. So we would set up big aquariums together, then catch baby turtles together, and then watch the baby turtles together at night. That is also when some of the abuse took place. So it was like my brain really emphasized the memory of my "best friend" watching turtles with me, and disassociated from the abuse.

The older I got though the more my father hated me, because the more I reminded him of my mother and the more independent and questioning my personality became. He started to become more rejecting and nasty, more overtly abusive as opposed to a more covert, incestuous abuse. I can vaguely remember the pain of losing my "best friend" but not that much, I think it was mostly suppressed and still unresolved.

Instead I had to think with more of a survival mentality. By my teen years my father had become a dangerous threat not just to me but also my younger brother and my mother. He was becoming increasingly unstable due to alcoholism. So I had to choose between trying to salvage a relationship with my father and trying to protect my brother, and I chose the latter.

After the divorce my father's neuroticism and alcoholism just kept getting more severe, until he lost his job and received a restraining order for buying assault rifles and making death threats against his coworkers, and also showing up to work drunk all the time. His new wife left him, and the downward spiral lead to him losing his house and everything by the time I was an adult.

The way it worked out is that almost right after I went No Contact and tried to cut him out of my life, suddenly he has alcohol dementia, is physically very ill and at risk of becoming homeless. Ever since I've always been really torn about the whole thing, although most of the time I try not to think about it. I keep tabs through the grape vine on what is going on with him, but I don't initiate contact.

The last time I even saw him was years ago when he showed up to a large family function uninvited, and I almost shot him with my revolver because I had flashbacks to him threatening to murder my mother and bowing revenge against us all. I saw him come around the corner at the church and went into instant fight/protect mode.

But, he was very feeble compared to my memories. He was malnourished, and seemed a lot shorter than I remembered him, with a drawn face and a lot of grey hair. He looked really bad. The alcohol dementia was also obvious. He had a hard time talking, forming words or keeping his train of thought. He seemed intimidated by me and couldn't look me in the eye (I never actually pulled my gun out, so it wasn't that). It felt like the twilight zone, like a bizarre dream. I could tell I was feeling things but couldn't identify them or really, truly feel them. All muffled and stuffed down, as usual.

Over the years I've received various updates. Someone gets him into rehab, he refuses help and leaves. Been through that multiple times. He's homeless on the streets, then the family gets him into a shelter or group home, then he leaves and effs up his life again. At one point I got a phone call informing me that he was found trying to eat out of dumpster at a McDonalds. Another time when he lost an apartment that he was found surrounded by mold and feces and almost dead.

Every time I don't know what I feel. It's like a flurry of emotions that run under my surface, I can't identify them or hold onto them, and then they're suppressed quickly again. A reel of memories of my "best friend" in childhood, "my dad", and a reel of memories of a monster doing terrible things, and a flickering present day reality of a feeble, demented old man. But every time if I wait long enough, he gets back into a home or rehab or something, and for a little while, everything is 'okay' again and I don't have to confront those feelings for a while longer.

Well recently he was in a group home, and he left of his own will. He decided he would rather live in his car and be drunk all the time. The updates kept coming in. He would get arrested for shoplifting but they wouldn't press charges because he was obviously homeless and ill. Then recently the police found him in his car and he was extremely sick, so they rushed him to the hospital. From the hospital they moved him into a rehab center.

Well he left the rehab center, a shock to no one, to go back to live in his car, not eat and constantly drink, while also being very sick. That was a couple weeks ago. At this point he is very ill, very malnourished, and living in the cold in his car, subsisting on nothing but alcohol.

I know that he is going to die soon. It's hard to explain but, on top of all of the obvious evidence, I just have a deep gut feeling. I can just feel that he is going to pass from this world soon. Most of the time I don't think about it, but when I do I feel a terrible and strange feeling that I can't label. Sometimes my hands will shake. I can't even figure out what I should / shouldn't do, if anything, I can't hardly think well on it and can't even identify or grasp what I feel about everything.

A week from now I'll be going down to the state where my father and most of my family tree resides, for the holiday. It will probably be my last chance to ever see my father alive, if I could even find him. I don't know if it's important that I do, or important that I don't. Thinking about it makes my whole face sting.

I read your post and it resonates with me well. Looking from the outside, I see some similar aspects in your story as my own. You've been through a lot, and you deserve to do what is best for you.

Backatory? My mom was mentally abusive and I was isolated as a child. I always come to her defense, "she tries her best," when she didn't. She gave up caring for us and herself years before she passed away. She suffered a lot, though she remained sober. Her way of dealing with her illness was to control her children and have us take care of her. We weren't allowed to get jobs or grow up. I moved out on bad terms and lived with a boyfriend after she was diagnosed with cancer. Everyone seems to think I was in the wrong for my doing so, but I left because I knew I needed to grow up and start taking care of myself (and, admittedly, trying to get my brothers to do the same, though their refusal to take part was due to her lack of trust with the world and her controlling ways) before she passed away and I ended up homeless or something. It didn't matter to me to a point, because, for me, it was the right thing to do.

Because, in the end, you can only help those who WANT to be helped. My mother didn't. And it sounds like your father doesn't. You can't change that. You cannot force that. That person has to change for them, they have to want to change.

You can let it be, and you have to come to peace with it. For awhile, I felt bad, and yes, I still do--again, to a degree--but I'm healing now, a year and a half after she passed.

It's no easy road, love. But know what you have to do and what you're comfortable sleeping with at night.

Thanks for asking this question. I'm also very curious about this.

I identify a lot with that statement. Hearing things about my dad sends a little thunderstorm flash through my head and my heart rate picks up.

We have to make decisions we can live with. But you don't owe that man anything. You owe it to yourself to be gentle and kind to yourself. You owe it to yourself to maintain your emotional wellbeing. It's not weak, it's not selfish, it's the right thing to do. It's important because you went through something growing up that no one should ever go through. You're not dealing with the traditional ball of wax. You're absolved for foregoing any kind of duties as his child. It sounds like he forfeited any right to that long ago.

If you go see him, do it for you. Do it because that's the person you are and that's what you need.

I would caution against doing it as a sacrifice because you feel obligated.

For what it's worth, if you do care what anyone thinks of you, I think you're very brave and I wish you the best with this.

I knew it is really painful on everything your dad did in his own family. But he is still your dad. Maybe he wants to be alcoholic throughout his life because he is condemning himself and wants to "forget".

Go and see him. If you already forgave him on the abuse he did to you, then tell him. I hope that would gain a relief to him. Just show kindness before it'll be too late. You have my support and I supposed all the people here in PC. Give us an update when you get to see him.

Hey Copperstar, though not on the same wavelength, my FL sis is going though some of this with my dad. He's had alcohol problems in the past, abandoned us kids 40 years ago, and yet, here he is, 83, ill, nasty as ever...never inquires about his grandkids, etc.

I don't know exactly I softened some over the years. I'm ok with conversation, but to go to FL and visit on the limited funds I have, is not happening...at least not right now. My FL sister and I talk often, mostly about how we feel and her taking care of him.

I don't get how a parent abandons their kids/grandkids, but I've also seen a side of him that has helped me out financially over the years.

It's a tough call. It's hard to see a parent go downhill, you're in my thoughts. Cat

My mother was an alcoholic who also had, I believe, narcissistic personality disorder. The last time I visited my mother, I was there for several days. When I was leaving to go to the airport, the very last thing she said to me gave me to understand that she expected to die in the very near future. There was no opportunity to process this news, or speak with her about it.

After her death, I felt nothing. No grief. In retrospect, I had no idea what grief actually was until my father died, years later.

I do not regret or miss the opportunity to speak with her in a personal way before her death, nor do I treasure my last times with her or anything along those lines. I am sorry that this is how things were, but to my feelings and mind, those were just one more thing to endure in dealing with her.

I am so sorry CopperStar, growing up that way is horrible for any child and should never take place. It is no wonder there is a very confused part of you. You were the only friend your father ever had, he could never be your father because he never grew up and became an adult mentally. I am sorry you grew up with that, you handled it the best way you knew how, after all you were only a child so you related to the part of him that was a child that never grew up until you matured and he could not. That child part of him that was a friend to you was gone a long time ago. He was terrified of growing up and feeling so he self medicated and that just took away whatever had been there. No, he doesn't want to get better and his brain is now incapable of it, he has been like that for a while now and that is why he leaves every place that tries to help him in any way.

It is really up to you whether you try to find him to see him one more time or not. Mentally he probably doesn't have much left, it sounds like he just wants his own space, even if it's in his car which he prefers rather then being put where he is with other strangers.

I think the only worth while parts of what your past was when it came to him are those positives that you remember, it's ok if your mind choses to put aside whatever is not worth remembering.

My father died l cried a little but not much, he hadn't been a good father.
My mother died at 92. I thought she would never go, she was determined to live to 100 and get a telegraph/birthday card from the queen.
She was invicable she would live forever!
Even though she had become frail she was still strong in mind and remarkably chipper. She had never suffered from depression she enjoyed her life.
(Which is why I do not believe all narcs are 'tortured souls' and all that crap, it's just not correct)

Anyway ok, this will sound harsh but I'd wanted her dead from the age of 7 when l realised she hated me. I thought I would be then adopted by a normal family and be happy and loved.

But nope. She just wouldn't go.

When she died l felt relief. Free at last.
Free from narcissistic mother. Free from my narcissistic golden child monster sister, a powerful dominating force and hightly toxic. Now mother was gone l wouldn't have to see Nsis any more.
Mother hated me, the chosen scapegoat. My life was s##t as a child. Unloved.

I hated the f**king b***h.

I seem to be in a minority as most people here still love their abusive parents. I don't understand that.
Stockholm syndrome?

Everyone's different l suppose.

Her adored Golden Child killed her in the end, otherwise she would still be here.


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My Mother was ill and abusive. I told her I loved her for the first time in my life right at the last . the next time I saw her she was not lucid enough to hear it. I felt relief and release when she died and I only mourned what could have been not what was. These situations are so difficult for people and I empathize and feel for people who are in them.

Mother never said she loved me (because she didn't)
I never said l loved her either.

Oddly, at the end she was laying in the bed in the old peoples home golden child sis had put her in
looking sad lost and helpless. Thin, fragile, like a little baby bird that had fallen out of its nest.

I actually felt compassion for her, told her she didn't have to stay in that dreadful place, that I would take her back to her home.

She said no, we must wait and talk to Sue (golden child) first.
Sigh.
Must always obey GC.
Oh well I tried.
Dunno why l bothered anyway really.

I have much grief inside, locked away.
Deep grief not for mother 'per say' but for the mother I should have, had but never did.

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My mother was an alcoholic and extremely neglectful, but not physically abusive. She loved us, but didn't know how to care for us, and her own self esteem was so low she barely cared for herself.

She passed away from colon cancer about 18 years ago. My pain is the same as marmaduke, the deep grief of losing the opportunity to have the mother I should have but never did. I don't grieve Mom as much as I grieve the lost opportunity to have what I never did.

One of my abusers died 3 years ago, my mom went to his funeral. She asked if I wanted to go and I said no, I wanted so badly to go... Tho for my own reasons... I wanted to take permanent marker with me and write rot in hell pervert on his forehead... Tho I decided not to...

The 2nd major abuser I'm waiting for her to go.. Will I grieve for my mother? I don't think so... I thought at some point I might have unresolved issues when she goes... Tho ya know what, not exactly how I expected... I will grieve for the mother I never had and the father I never had.. (The abuser wasn't my father...)

I really relate to your portrait of your family - alcoholic father and NPD neglecting/rejecting mother. That is my family dynamic also. My father died from alcoholic liver disease in 2008. Prior to that I had lived with him for a couple of years, until I could stand it no longer - his drinking, his expectations that I be there for him, always, like the expectations of a child. He lived in shared housing in the year prior to to his death. I was with him in the hospital for the last 24 hours of his life and with him when he died. He was in out and of consciousness, and during a moment of lucidity, I told him that I loved him and he told me that he loved me. I was at peace after that. My father was self-absorbed, probably narcissistic traits, but he was the only one in my family who showed me any love as a child. It was inconsistent and unreliable, but we were good friends and I have been able to forgive because he was remorseful and showed me that he knew how to love in his better moments (my mother is a different story). I don't know whether that's a good thing or a deluded thing. Maybe I'm just seeing what I want to see because the reality is too painful, I don't know.

Only you can know what is the best way to handle this. If this was my mother, I think I could be at peace with not saying goodbye, because she has been so monstrous throughout my life. But for my father, I needed to say goodbye. I hope you find the answers that give you peace.

This is my personal opinion.--
I would go see the family for the holidays. I would look for my Dad. I would tell him how I felt about his abuse. I would wait to hear if he had anything to say about it, apologize.

Then I would say I loved him and wished him well but that I would not be seeing him again.

That way I would feel that I said my piece,cleared my conscience and could hopefully leave the pain and move on with my life.

Well I got the dates confused and the family gathering was actually this past weekend as opposed to the actual holiday weekend.

It was pretty uneventful and typical. I hadn't been to my grandmother's house (where it was held) in years nor seen all of these relatives in years. I felt disassociated and a bit ill the whole time I was there, I mostly kept to myself aside from occasionally talking with my brother.

Everyone knew not to mention my father to me, they know I have a history of not talking to people for months to years at a time if they try to guilt-trip me about my father. They went after my brother, though, and my brother brushed them off and changed the subject. From my brother I learned that nobody even knew where our father is right now, so there would be no way to see him, even if we decided to do so. He could be in anywhere in the clusters of cities in that area, parked somewhere out of sight, sleeping in his car, and he doesn't have a phone.

So I just endured dealing with my relatives and trying not to think about anything too much. They were their usual selves, no interest in how I am doing, only wanting to know how much money I am making and where I am working, nothing else.

Then my brother and I drove back to our home state together. We didn't talk about our father, we talked about video games instead. I think we've already said all we have to say with each other about our father over the past few years.

My experience is more like marmadukes with my abusive father when he passed. I didnt feel the need to see him or comfort him, he was a horrible man. When he died, I felt a flood of relief and free. I also felt guilt that I should be happy a human being was dead and that was confusing.

Its been 3 years or so now and Im still grateful. I feel bad even typing that but its true. I have no regrets I didnt comfort him and tell him he was forgiven, he was such a jerk he probably wouldnt even realize he should have apologized in the first place. With time, I feel less bitter about him and it could be debated maybe that if I had a conversation with him maybe it wouldnt have taken 3 years to get here? But, like I said, I have no regrets and I hope when he passed he felt a moment of regret but if I had to bet I would bet he didnt. He was probably angry everyone didnt apologize to him

My father was physically and emotionally abusive, maybe NPD or bipolar (we're not sure). He started a lot of stuff like he was God's gift with whatever he was doing, then stop completely. He hated me and criticized me a lot. My mother was an alcoholic and didn't know how to be a mother. She wanted me to be her friend instead of her daughter.

I kept very low contact with them until Mom was about to die from ovarian cancer. We had a good time as we decided what stuff I should take, but Dad kept trying to control things. When he died over a year later I finally got him to tell me he loved me, at the end of a phone call. Before that he looked at my wedding pictures and all he can say was how fat I was.

I didn't feel much about either of them dying. After Dad died I felt like I was an orphan, but that was about it. I'm still trying to get over the emotional abuse, but I'm starting to let go of the past and move on to the rest of my life.