Hi MM--I just wanted to add my support to that of the others.
When my dad died, I also felt many of the things you talk about. It was very complicated, so maybe I can add a few things the others didn't mention.
I was surprised by people who said they understood what I was going through. They all expected me to lose it with grief. I had no real grief, and my face was always empty when they spoke to me, so I think they thought I was cold. I couldn't really explain what was going on, so I just said my dad and I didn't get along.
One woman, a colleague at work, came up to me weeping with sympathy for me. She scared me. She also said she knew exactly what I was going through (she must have lost a loved parent...). I said, "You have no idea what I'm going through. You barely know me," and just walked away. I wish I had been kinder.
I lived in the Virgin Islands then, and my dad died in Michigan. Neither my sister or I went to the funeral. I don't even know where he's buried.
But when I got the news that he had died suddenly (he fell down the stairs), I felt the most bizarre and confusing set of things: relief that I wouldn't have to face him any more, releif that my family could get together peacefully (he was also a drunk and angry when drunk), relief that an enormous weight was gone from my shoulders....many kinds of relief. Also though, there was deep sadness that surprised me: I realized I had always wanted a father, and that he had betrayed me in that way particularly. I've noticed (with some dread and weirdness) how alike my dad and I are (though I don't abuse people or drink too much): because of this I realize he betrayed a relationship that should have been filled with joyful sharing of interests and learning of skills: the whole dad/son thing. I would have welcomed it and so would he have welcomed it, so how come it got destroyed? So I've had lots of grief over that loss. Most of the grief has been for losses from the deep past that are now clearly permanent. His death made me realize how much I wanted to have a father who loved me and could show it in normal dad/son ways. It also obliterated the fantasy that somehow I could reconcile with him and have some of that healthy relationship at a late date. I realised that that had never been possible. My dad once said to me, "some things are not forgiveable." I realize now that he was talking about himself.
His death has also given me perspective and made the abuse way easier to deal with. Now that he no longer exists in the world, I can see that everything about the abuse is passing. There's no more abuser in the world for me to dread, and that feeling took wing after a while in my heart. It probably will for you, too. So many of the effects of abuse seem shared, why shouldn't the relief also be shared?
Anyway, just wanted you to hear another voice of someone who has gone through the situation of the death of an abuser. My reactions were very complicated, too. They have to be. It's a complicated thing to be betrayed so deeply at a young age (or any time) by someone close to the heart, especially the one who is socially understood as the provider of safety in a storm.
My heart goes out to you. I've been through this in my own way, and it was like having all the deepest feelings rise to the surface. Try to let it be clarifying and open. I'm lucky to have someone in my family who can hear all the stories. My sister went through some of the same things, and we're very close. We have very few secrets from one another and can let all of the grief come to the surface when it needs to. So we talked about these things very openly, and it brought us closer together. My mom, too. We all got perspective on our family history, even in the weirdest ways. We realized we suddenly enjoyed being together, whereas before it had always been so hard. Abusers are generally troubled in many ways, so even if there's no sex abuse, there are other things that make life so difficult around them. Like the alchoholism in my case. There was relief in many eyes and for many reasons after my dad died.
Anyway, just wanted to let you hear another voice of sympathy. I've been down this particular path in my own shoes, so I have some sense of the possible pain. It's OK if there is also very real relief. I found great peace in understanding that the failure of my relationship with my dad had nothing to do with me. All a son is supposed to do is be open to the possibilities the dad offers: You wanna play catch? Sure dad. You wanna come build a treehouse? Sure dad. You wanna learn to ride a bike? Sure dad. I would have been open if he had offered.
I just got a dad who had other things on his mind.
Not my fault.
Not yours either.
Danny
