Author: Annika Mikkelson

Hey Dad,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I know I am constantly searching for signs you’re around but it’s been a bit overwhelming trying to write to you again. So much has happened since you’ve been gone and I don’t know where to begin. Honestly, most days I can’t really believe I’ve made it this long without you.

Before I begin, I also want to apologize for how much of this letter is about Taylor Swift. I think you’ll understand why, though.

On the anniversary of your accident, I was lucky enough to spend the evening with my best friends seeing Taylor Swift at The Eras Tour. I know if you were here you would roll your eyes at how big of a deal it is to secure tickets to her current tour. I also know you would’ve been so excited I had that experience.

When Elaine got through the Ticketmaster queue and got tickets for 7-7-23, I was ecstatic. But I was also overwhelmingly sad. I knew this show was going to be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I also knew it would fall on the sixth anniversary of your accident and I’d likely be struggling. Thankfully, I have some of the best friends in the world and I knew they would be there the whole day helping me through all my feelings.

Going in, I knew it would be an emotional night but I had no idea how overwhelmed I would feel by your presence when she performed two particular songs.

I had a feeling she would do something special during our show since it was the day her re-released album Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) came out. I hoped she would play Long Live as a surprise song, but instead she included it in the Speak Now era set list. The song took on a whole new meaning to me as I screamed/cried/sang along with the other 70,000 Swifties in attendance. I will forever remember that moment and how I could feel your presence with me as she sang the bridge:

"Will you take a moment? 
Promise me this
That you'll stand by me forever 
But if, God forbid, fate should step in 
And force us into a goodbye 
If you have children someday 
When they point to the pictures 
Please tell them my name"

So obviously I cried through the whole song. Then we got to the acoustic set where she performs a different surprise song each night. She chose “Never Grow Up” from Speak Now (Taylor’s Version). A lyric from that song goes “Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home; Remember the footsteps, remember the words said.” As you can imagine, I cried my way through that song as well. An image forever ingrained in my mind is you sitting at the kitchen island waiting for me to “surprise” you with a visit home from Ames. I wish I had known that was the last time I’d see you sitting there.

As I’m sure you remember, I’ve had Taylor’s music as a soundtrack to my life since she first started making music. I’ve always loved her music but it wasn’t until I had to navigate life without you, that her music spoke to me in a way it never had before. She has a song for every emotion and feeling I’ve felt over the last 6 years. She has the words when all I have are tears. Hearing these songs live transported me back in time. A time when you were still here and I had no idea the years left with you were numbered. I’ll leave you with one more song lyric that has resonated with me since I first heard it last October:

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye
You were bigger than the whole sky
You were more than just a short time 
And I've got a lot to pine about
I've got a lot to live without

Until next time, I’ll be here missing you daily. I love you, Dad

Love, your pumpkin

Dear Dad,

You would not believe the week I’ve had. Obviously with the second anniversary of your death, I’ve been (slightly) more emotional than usual. I also decided it was a great time to start a 30 day cleanse, so my body is all out of whack (I do feel good though). Adding in the stressful, busy week I’ve had at work, all I wanted at the end of each day was to call you. 

You were the best listener (and talker, too). You were always only a phone call away and you know just what to say to cheer me up or distract me long enough for me to forget about whatever was going on that day. I can’t believe it’s been two years since I’ve heard your voice. I miss it so much, even your smokers cough.

A lot has happened since the first anniversary of your passing. Last year I made promises to talk about you more, share your compassion and friendliness with those around me, be a friend to everyone and make tym for the people and things I love. I like to think I’ve been able to do all those on top of starting a new job (and being promoted, too), meeting some amazing new friends that I know will be lifelong friends, and starting wedding planning. It isn’t easy to do any of it without you here but I know you are always with me in spirit. 

Speaking of your spirit, on Father’s Day, Nic and I were browsing prints at a stand at Bonnaroo and he came across one with Spirit in the Sky written in a bird. That was the clearest sign I’ve received from you so far. 

The dogs serve as my daily reminder to make tym. Nic and I are more often on their schedule rather than they are on ours. I still need to work on the patience and not always being in a hurry to get to where I’m going (my license plate serves as my reminder there). I wish you would’ve met them. You would’ve loved Pumpkin’s sassy attitude and Reggie’s need to be around his family. 

The friends I’ve made this past year have gotten to know you through the stories and memories I’ve shared with them and I think you would’ve really liked them. I think you would especially my friend Dani. She has helped me through my grief in ways she probably doesn’t realize. When I first met her, she had recently lost her dad, too. While she is a (little) older than me, it was still so comforting to have someone know what I was feeling and going through. I hope you’ve met her dad up there, I think you two would get along great in matching Hawaiian shirts on the beach. 

I’m so grateful for the 22 years I got with you. I only wish it could have been more. I miss you more as the days and years continue to go by. 

Love you always, your little girl

P.S. As I wrote this from my backyard, playing with the dogs, I noticed 3 hawks flying overhead. Thank you for the constant reminder that you are always there watching over and protecting me. 

I can’t believe It’s been one year without you, Dad. One year without the sound of your voice. One year without hour-long phone calls just to chat. One year without your sarcasm. One year without your advice and words of wisdom. One year without your never-ending stories. One year without hearing your smokers cough or loud snore. One year without the most loving, supportive and hardworking dad in the world.

July 11, 2017 was by far the worst day of my life. I watched my dad take his last breath and had to say my final goodbye to him. I have been dreading the first anniversary of his death for a while now. Somehow it all seems more final to me now that it has been a full year. We have had to celebrate holidays, birthdays and milestones without him here and that will become our new “normal”. Of course there will be many more milestones to face in the years to come but for me the one year mark has been the biggest obstacle to overcome so far.

It is amazing how one year can feel like the blink of an eye and a lifetime at the same time. The seasons have changed and we’ve started new traditions along the way. We’ve brought pieces of dad with us along the way and will continue to do so on our next adventures. I’ve had an especially difficult time in my grief since moving to a new state, away from the people who knew him best. It breaks my heart that my new neighbors and friends never had the pleasure of meeting the amazing man that I was lucky enough to call Dad.

It hasn’t gotten any easier, and my life will never really be the same. But I will always carry the memories I shared with him, the countless life lessons he taught me and honor his legacy of making tym for what is important. In this next year, I will talk about him more. I will share his compassion and friendliness with those around me. I will be a friend to everyone. I will make my dad proud. And I will make tym for the people and things I love.

I love you, Dad and I miss you more every day that passes.

One year ago I decided to drive home and surprise my dad for Father’s Day weekend. I’m so thankful I made the time to go home and spend the weekend with him. I didn’t know it at the time but it would be the last time I saw him before his accident.

When I got home Friday afternoon, my dad was napping in the basement. I started to walk down the stairs and he goes “how was the drive Annika?” He was a very difficult person to surprise. Just like he always predicted the ending of movies 5 minutes in, he always saw a surprise coming. However, I was able to surprise my mom and when she didn’t believe I was actually home, we sent her a selfie to prove it.

I have been dreading Father’s Day for the past 11 months and although I knew it was coming, I was still overcome with heartache and pain waking up this morning. We never did anything grand and extravagant for Father’s Day, but that’s not how my dad wanted to spend his day. He was happiest just grilling out, fishing and spending time with his family and if he got a round of golf in that morning, he was even happier! I let myself have an hour (or two) to cry and sulk this morning but I want to spend the rest of the day how my dad would want me to, celebrating him and all the wonderful memories I shared with him.

Today, I’m grateful to have had the most amazing dad anyone could ask for. I’m grateful he was able to see me graduate high school and college. I’m grateful he was there to send me off to Homecoming dances and Proms. I’m grateful to have spent numerous Daddy-Daughter dances with him (even when I spent the whole night playing with my friends while he talked with the other dads). I’m grateful for all the fabulous family vacations we took over the years, especially Hawaii. I’m grateful for all the trips he took to Ames when I was feeling homesick. I’m grateful for the phone calls and advice whenever I needed reassurance or a friendly voice. I’m grateful he was able to meet the love of my life, Nic. Most of all, I’m grateful for his endless support and unconditional love.

Happy Father’s Day to all the wonderful dads out there, but especially mine. I love you, Dad.

    

Saturday afternoon I received an unexpected phone call from one of my best friends and while I was excited to see her name pop up on my phone, I had a feeling she wasn’t calling just to catch up. When she told me the tragic news of Mia’s passing, I was left in disbelief. I was speechless and I’m still in shock.

It was the same shock and disbelief I felt 11 months ago when I received a phone call about my dad’s accident. Although my dad’s accident and Mia’s accident were different, it still brings up the same feelings and heartbreak that come with sudden deaths. Death is never easy to cope with, but sudden deaths hit us the hardest.

We don’t see it coming, we don’t have time to prepare for this pain, we don’t expect to have to say goodbye so soon.

I’ve spent the last day reflecting on the few memories I have with Mia and I regret not getting to know her sooner than I did. I first met Mia when we both joined AOII and although we were only familiar faces to each other, she never walked by without a smile on her face or without saying hello. It wasn’t until we both served on GW Central our senior year that I really got to know her. After a difficult fall semester, I was looking forward to being disaffiliated for Greek Week and meeting new people outside of my own chapter. However, being the introvert that I am I was immediately relieved to learn Mia was going to also serve on GW Central. She treated me as though we had been friends forever and always made me feel included, regardless of how alone I felt. Her smile could light up a room and her infectious laugh would make your day. She had an eagerness to always help others and treated everyone with acceptance and love.

  

Mia touched the lives of everyone she met and she will be greatly missed by all who knew her. We should all strive to embody the values Mia showed us on a daily basis. Only the good die young and Mia was truly one of the best. Rest in Peace, Mia. 

 

No one ever taught me how you are supposed to grieve or how to deal with the loss of a parent. It is a difficult topic to discuss so it’s easier just to avoid it.

Grief is defined as deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death. This definition seems too straightforward for me. Grief is different for everyone. No two people grieve in the exact same way and loss doesn’t affect people in the same way, even if they have lost the same person.

This is something I have especially struggled with. I tend to compare myself to those around me in situations where I don’t know how to react or respond, and grieving the loss of my dad qualifies as one of those situations. So not knowing how to deal with this loss, I compared myself to my family to get an idea of how I needed to be grieving this tremendous loss. That didn’t get me very far because we are all coping differently and in our separate ways.

So how am I grieving?

Well, my answer has changed slightly since I began seeing a therapist. Before starting therapy, I didn’t think I was really dealing with my grief at all. I wouldn’t bring up my dad very much because it made me too upset. I avoided thinking about the future because I didn’t want to imagine him not being here for it. I didn’t want to believe he was really gone, so I tried not to. I reflected on the good times I had with him through smiles and tears but for the most part I tried to keep myself busy (which is really difficult when you don’t have a full-time job btw) to avoid wallowing in my sadness and heartbreak.

I have always been my own harshest critic, and this process has been no different. I still don’t think I am grieving “well”, but with reassurance from my therapist, I am grieving the best way I can at this point. I haven’t turned to drugs or alcohol to drown my sorrows. I haven’t isolated myself from friends and family, I haven’t become suicidal or thought of harming myself in any way. Overall I am dealing with the grief in a pretty healthy way… so why do I feel like I’m not grieving properly? Probably because grief is so different for everyone and there is no way right way to do it.

Therapy has helped me to realize that just because I am doing well doesn’t mean I need to feel well. I still break down and cry when I think of my dad’s absence. The thought of him not walking me down the aisle someday is unbearable and it breaks my heart to know he won’t have the chance to be the awesome grandpa I imagined he would be. Milestones will be the hardest to deal with and his absence will always be felt the most in my best and worst moments. We will have to celebrate birthdays, graduations, and other accomplishments when celebrating is the last thing on our minds. As Rebecca Pearson said, “the happiest moments will also be a little sad.”

While I might always feel like I can be grieving differently or coping with this loss in a better way, I know I am doing the best I can.