You can go...

It is 24 April 2025, 11 pm, and I am sitting beside my father, my hand on his heart. His eyes were closed. The frown on his forehead was gone. He looked peaceful and relaxed.

The body struggled every few seconds to inhale, and then relaxed to let the air escape again. The intervals between the breaths slowly expanded until the air escaped his body for the last time. In the penetrating silence, I heard myself say: "You can go, you have done enough, you can rest..."

The passing

That night, my father passed away after months of struggle with so many external factors over which he had no control. When he took his last breath, that night at 11:03 pm, the only thing I could feel was the love and care I had for him.

Now, four weeks later, as the fact that he is gone slowly sinks in, I realize more and more how important it was that my relationship with him was clean.

At the moment of passing, nothing needed to be fixed, nothing needed to be said. Anger had given way to love and care a long time ago. I could feel that I was his son, and I was grateful for the father he had been in my life.

Far from perfect

As a kid, I always thought of my father as a wonderful man. I admired him for everything he did. He worked offshore, sailed the world, could fix everything that needed to be fixed, and wasn't afraid of any challenge. All from my perception as a loving son.

Later in life, I discovered that our relationship was far from perfect, but be honest, which father-son relationship is truly perfect? There is always a great deal of activity and complexity in the relationships between fathers and sons within a family. However, as a kid, I had no reference. So, that's the way fathers are.

I took it for granted, and slowly I began to build the necessary defenses to deal with my father's flaws, which I didn't want to acknowledge. Defenses that I mostly got from him, as a package, free of charge.

I'm not the only one

I work mainly with men, and I recognize so many issues that I find in my history with my dad.

Competition, admiration, envy, performance and prestige, resistance toward authority, unclear relationships and roles next to the mother, confirmation and approval, brotherhood versus hierarchy, anger and fury (expressed or not expressed), being seen versus neglection, lack of emiotional availability, lack of clarity when and how to become a man, lack of education how to be with women, lack of having a rolemodel, and so on, and so on…

It becomes even more complex when love and anger coexist, or when admiration and aversion are present simultaneously.

These are all subjects we as sons must face, explore, and heal if we want to be in a position where we can be comfortable and open in a relationship with our father and, ultimately, with ourselves, our friends, and the world.

Often, our fathers are not very open to doing the work that needs to be done, so it really comes down to us, the sons. And with us doing the job, we do part of his work.

Have you ever asked yourself the question: "Is there something unresolved in my relationship with my father?" It is not even relevant whether your father is still alive or not. You can still do the work.

I realise that my inner work is ongoing, and there are so many ways to maintain or heal the relationship with our deceased father. And to our grandfather, great-grandfather, and all men in that ancestral line.

The well-known ripple effect

From experience, I know that when I started to do my inner healing in 2009, I began to explore my relationship with my father, and started to own my contribution to the struggle and friction we experienced in that relationship. I began to detach myself from needing anything from him (which was surprisingly much) anymore and started to find it within myself.

The effect of my doing my work was that my father loosened his defenses and started to feel and open up. He began to heal his wounds without realizing it at first.

He became curious about me and himself. He became less judgmental and less angry towards the world around him, and even started to enjoy his life.

He began to connect with his emotions, his wounds, and his joy. Which initially was difficult for him, but he also began to notice what it brought. He started to feel what he did and did not want. He started to connect deeper and deeper to his partner, to his and her siblings, and the world

His life became richer. He opened up, got in touch with the love he had for himself and others, and in the last years, I felt very welcome in his presence.

I no longer needed anything from him, and that allowed me to truly receive what he gave me. I saw the man behind his behaviour and started to connect to and love that person.

Who was the little one?

In the last few months of his life, he started to become more and more dependent on the help of my sisters and me. Being with him, it became increasingly challenging to feel who was the son and who was the father. Sometimes I saw the look in his eyes, which I believe I had as a boy, filled with fear of the world. The only thing I could do then was to be with him and let him feel he was not alone, that we would face the world together.

The times in between, being back in London, were difficult. I trusted my sisters; they showed so much care, but I couldn't shake off these anxious looks. Sometimes it felt like I betrayed him by going back home. Feelings of guilt or shame sometimes took hold of me, and talking to him on the phone didn't feel the same. We both found it hard to really connect that way.

Thinking of our relationship in that period, I had to tell myself repeatedly: "I am the son, he is the father. He is the big one, I am the little one!" (even though he was at least 35cm shorter than me)

It was essential for me to maintain the father-son energy alive, to honour him as my elder, while simultaneously needing my inner father, with all its caring and decisive qualities, to care for him.

My inner father

This has been a profoundly enlightening experience for me. Who am I? Who is my inner father, and how, when, and where can I tap into him if needed? This is a part of me that holds space. In this case, for my father, as well as for my partner, loved ones, and clients I work with. So this was the ultimate opportunity for that part of me to appear and shine fully!

Fully embracing the father in me is essential. Fully realizing that it embodies the qualities and patterns of the men I was holding in the past few months is significant, too.

It has been a long way, but now I can say that I love the package that my father gave me as a child, and now that this part of me is fully present, it may continue to grow from there. Bring it on, life! I am ready!

I feel grateful to my dear father. Thankful for him believing in me and staying true to the beauty of what he gave me. He never betrayed his values and kept his promise that I would be alright in this world.

Thank you, Dad. I love you!

A word to the men who read this

You may be reading this with a lump in your throat or perhaps numbness. You may not have had a chance to say goodbye. You may feel that your father never really noticed you. Or maybe you still don’t know what you think.

All of that is ok. These relationships are complex. And it’s fine if your relationship with your father doesn’t look like mine. It took me years of inner work to arrive at this point.

Maybe your father is still alive, but unreachable. Perhaps he also passed away. Either way, the invitation remains: explore the relationship, not necessarily for his sake, but for yours. It doesn’t have to be loud or dramatic. It can start quietly. With one breath. One memory. One truth spoken to yourself.

Your father may not be able to do the work. But you can. And when you do, something shifts in the world. In you. In him. In the generations after you.