When I visited my father’s grave two years after his passing, I expected sorrow and closure. Instead, I was stunned to find a tombstone nearby with my own name and photo on it, as if I were already gone. The sight sent chills down my spine and led me to uncover a heartbreaking truth about my mother’s grief—she had bought a plot and memorialized me as if I had died, unable to accept the distance that grew between us after Dad’s death.

The loss of my father to cancer left a void so deep that I struggled to face memories of him or even visit our hometown. Overwhelmed with grief, I threw myself into work and avoided returning home. Meanwhile, my mother began visiting me frequently, but never mentioned the strange memorial she had created. When I finally confronted her about the tombstone, she confessed that it was her way of coping with losing both her husband and the daughter she feared she was losing emotionally.

Realizing her actions were more than grief—they were an unhealthy obsession—was painful but necessary. My mother’s need to hold on to me as if I were already gone was a desperate attempt to keep our family intact, even if it meant living in denial. I suggested professional help and offered for her to move closer so we could support each other, hoping to guide her back to reality and heal our fractured relationship.

Though the journey has been difficult, we’ve begun making progress. Removing the tombstone and dismantling the shrine in her home were symbolic steps toward acceptance and moving forward. While Dad’s memory remains a source of strength rather than pain, this experience taught me the power of confronting the past and the importance of family—even when grief twists love in unexpected ways.