Here is something gentle, grounded, and deeply respectful of the boy you were, and the man you have become. I’ll hold this with you carefully.

Introduction — Meeting the Wound That Formed So Early

When you were thirteen, you experienced something no child’s nervous system is prepared to hold. You stood beside your father—your companion, your safe person, your emotional guide—and watched his life leave his body. A moment like that does not simply “pass.” The mind tries to be strong. The heart collapses inward. And sometimes, as a form of survival, the tears stop because crying feels too dangerous, too overwhelming, too empty.

Now, at seventy-six, you are meeting again the part of you that froze that day: the boy who witnessed his father’s death and didn’t know how to bear the loss. This is not regression; this is wisdom. It is the readiness of a lifetime opening to heal what could not be healed then.

You already have mindfulness, meditation, and counseling experience. This means the ground inside you is steady enough now to invite this wound into the light—with compassion, slowness, and care.

What follows are three healing pathways you can safely explore, each using the strengths you already have.

1. Re-contacting the Frozen Inner Boy With Gentle Presence

(Mindful Reparenting of the Thirteen-Year-Old You)

Trauma from childhood often freezes at the age it happened. A thirteen-year-old boy inside you still believes he is alone at that bedside.
Without support, without a way to process the loss.

This practice helps you meet him.

How to do it:

1. Sit quietly and breathe slowly into the heart area.

2. Bring to mind the boy you were at thirteen—just his face or even just his presence.

3. Whisper inwardly:
   “I’ am here now. You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

4. Simply stay with him. You don’t need to fix or change anything.

5. Notice if tears come; if they do, let them be an expression of thawing, not weakness.

Why this works:
Presence heals what presence never touched. When your adult awareness meets your inner boy with warmth, it dissolves the loneliness sealed into that moment. The boy needs companionship, not advice. Your role now is to offer what he did not receive: safety, permission, soothing, and someone older who can hold grief with kindness.

2. Allowing the Uncried Tears to Return Safely

(Mindful Emotional Completion)

You described quitting crying at the funeral. That is a natural protective response. Your body survived by shutting off the emotional faucet.

Now, the pathway forward is to gently invite what was blocked to move again—but in a safe, titrated way.

A simple practice:

1. Place your hand on your chest, over the sternum.

2. Say softly:
   “It is safe now. I can feel what I could not feel then.”

3. As memories arise, don not dive into them.
   Let them approach and then step back. Work at the edge—never at the center.

4. If tears want to come, allow a little bit at a time.

5. After each wave, place both hands on your heart or belly and say:
   “I am here. I am supporting you.”

Why this works:
Trauma isn’t the memory of the event; it’s the unfinished survival impulse.
Your body wants to complete what got interrupted—grief, shaking, tears, warmth returning. By titrating gently, you help your nervous system complete what it could not finish at thirteen, without overwhelming the body today.

3. Rebuilding the Bond With Your Father in a New Way

(Healing the Attachment Wound Through Heart Dialogue)

You didn’t just lose a parent—you lost the only person you could talk to, the person who guided your emotional and inner life. That absence created a long-term wound.

This practice helps you restore the connection in a healing way, not through imagination, but through relational repair.

How to do it:

1. Sit quietly, breathe gently.

2. Picture your father not in the moment he died, but in the relationship you loved most—laughing, talking, sitting with you.

3. Speak inwardly to him as you would now, with your seventy-six-year-old clarity:

   • “Dad, I loved you deeply.”

   • “I still miss you.”

   • “I didn’t know how to live without you.”

   • “I’m ready to heal this now.”

4. Then listen.
   Not with the ears, but with the heart.
   Notice what comes back—not as words necessarily, but as a sense, a warmth, a memory, a feeling.

Why this works:
The nervous system holds attachment wounds in relationship form. Healing comes through relationship, even if the person is no longer living. You are restoring a connection that was abruptly severed, completing the emotional bond that was left unfinished.

Overview — The Path of Healing This Trauma

The trauma you experienced was not just the moment of death. It was:

• profound love,

• sudden loss,

• emotional isolation,

• and a child’s attempt to survive heartbreak by shutting himself down.

Healing requires:

1. Meeting the boy who froze

2. Letting the body complete grief in small, safe waves

3. Restoring the bond with your father in a nurturing inner way

And all of this must be done slowly, gently, and with deep self-respect.

Additional Skillful Means for Lifelong Healing

Here are some further supports you may find nourishing:

• Writing letters to your father

Not for analysis—just for emotional truth. Let the boy and the man speak together.

• Practicing “Loving-Kindness for the Inner Child”

Especially the phrases:
“May I feel safe.
May I be held.
May I be free to feel.”

• Somatic grounding

Warm hands on the heart and belly, slow breathing, and feet on the floor help integrate emotional waves safely.

• Talking aloud to your father

You don’t have to believe in the supernatural. Speaking to him repairs the relational circuitry inside you.

• Allowing tears if they come

Tears now are not from weakness—they are from completion.

• Holding yourself as the father once held you

You carry his love inside your nervous system.

You are not “re-creating” him—you are remembering the love that shaped you.