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Source: (consider it)
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Thread: Losing a parent as an adult
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anoesis
Shipmate
# 14189
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Posted
It would have been my Dad's birthday today. He died about two and a half years ago. Not sure exactly what I want to explore around this, but it starts with this story:
For three or four months after Dad died, everyone I met would greet me by saying some variant of; "Hey there - how's your Mum getting on? How's your Mum coping? Is your Mum ok, do you think?" Even today, if I run into someone who hasn't seen me for several months, they are almost bound to say "And how's your Mum?", one or two sentences into their enquiries.
I know they are just being kind/polite, but after the first little while, this started to really get to me. I reply that she seems fine, thanks, and I think to myself either a:) well, you know her, you could ask her yourself how she's getting on, or b:) you've never even met my mother, why are you asking after her? Why don't you ask me how I'm doing?
I think what's at the root of the resentment I have to this line of questioning is this undertone that my mother is the one who has suffered the real loss here - her life partner. Whereas I might have been expected to have trouble adjusting, and be worthy of following up, if I were a child who had lost her father, but no, I'm adult who had left home many years before, so it is assumed not to affect me all that much. What the hell is with all that? How many fathers am I going to have in my lifetime? So I didn't live in the same house as him - so what? There was a jar of cherry jam in the fridge that only he ate from, and a coffee cup in my cupboard with a handle big enough for him to clasp in his huge hand, that no-one else ever used. (I chucked it out yesterday).
There will be hundreds of folk out there who have lost one or both parents - because, let's face it, it happens to (almost) all of us eventually. I wonder, is it any different, experientially, depending on how old/mature/independent of them one is, or there some sense in which one is always a child with respect to one's parents? I know people who lost a parent in their teens, and it really left a gaping chasm in their lives. I am in my thirties - guess what, it seems to have left a gaping chasm in my life. I expect to be in my mid sixties at least before my mother shuffles off this mortal coil, given the longevity of all her other (non-smoking) family members. Will that feel the same, then, or will I be different enough by then to respond to it differently?
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The history of humanity give one little hope that strength left to its own devices won't be abused. Indeed, it gives one little ground to think that strength would continue to exist if it were not abused. -- Dafyd --
Posts: 993 | From: New Zealand | Registered: Oct 2008
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L'organist
Shipmate
# 17338
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Posted
I'm so sorry that you're experiencing such thoughtless behaviour.
When my mama died the only people who wrote to my siblings and me were our maternal relatives and one of mama's friends: here widower (not our father) had over 240 letters...
What was worse was that he announced his remarriage within weeks of mama's death: that did elecit responses, but only along the lines of 'what would you mama have thought', not how were we feeling or what were we thinking.
It was slightly better when my papa died but not very - people wrote to the oldest child and the rest of us were dependent on them sharing letters which didn't always happen...
My children's generation is much better: when we were bereaved last year their friends were marvellous and they all make a point of asking them how they are and marked the anniversary.
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Rara temporum felicitate ubi sentire quae velis et quae sentias dicere licet
Posts: 4950 | From: somewhere in England... | Registered: Sep 2012
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Trudy Scrumptious
BBE Shieldmaiden
# 5647
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Posted
What a very timely thread from my perspective. My mother died very suddenly less than two months ago. She was 78; I'm 47. Up till that point I had honestly believed that losing a parent in midlife was far less traumatic than losing one in childhood or youth and that, while it was of course sad, one's grief ought to be somewhat moderated by the knowledge that this was a normal part of life at this stage.
Of course I never expressed this view out loud, but I remember very secretly feeling that a few people I knew were really overdoing it with the grief thing when they lost their parents, aged 70- or 80-something, when the offspring themselves were in their 40s. On some level I was thinking, "Well, you must have expected this; this is just what happens when you get to a certain age."
Needless to say I have been fully avenged for those unspoken thoughts as I now realize from experience, rather than theoretically, that the loss of a loved parent is a huge loss whenever it happens. But in my experience I have found that other people have been far more sympathetic to me than I was to them (although of course I was always outwardly sympathetic). Yes, I get a lot of people asking how my Dad is doing -- a reasonable question since my parents were virtually inseparable and did everything together, so people find it hard to imagine how he's getting on (better than expected, actually). But people have been just as good about asking me how I'm doing and offering genuine sympathy. Maybe these are just nicer people than the ones you've dealt with, or maybe they are people who have themselves experienced a similar loss in adulthood so they know what it's like. Either way, it sucks when people don't appreciate the magnitude of your loss -- and it is a loss no matter what the timing or circumstances.
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Books and things.
I lied. There are no things. Just books.
Posts: 7428 | From: Closer to Paris than I am to Vancouver | Registered: Mar 2004
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Huia
Shipmate
# 3473
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Posted
My mother died 12 years ago tomorrow and my father 2 months ago. Some of the difference in my grieving may be because I am older but it is also due to the relationship I had with each of them.
When my beloved Grandad (who was living with us) died I was 18. I thought that people who said it was "For the best" were being horrible. Now, reflecting on my father's death - before the dementia and physical weakness overcame him - I find myself thinking the timing of his death was fortunate, for him and everyone who loved him.
I think the fact that neither of my parents' deaths was unexpected made it easier in that I had time to say "Goodbye" nevertheless I was still shocked when they died.
Huia.
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Charity gives food from the table, Justice gives a place at the table.
Posts: 10382 | From: Te Wai Pounamu | Registered: Oct 2002
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Adeodatus
Shipmate
# 4992
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Posted
I don't know what it's like to lose a life partner because I've never had one. But my father died suddenly when I was 36; my mother slowly when I was 43. Both times it tore my life apart, in different ways.
My dad was a great gardener, and I just about know one end of a rose bush from the other. And it must have been three or four years before I stopped thinking, "Oh I must ask dad about ... oh." when I needed some gardening advice.
With my mum, it was one of those deaths where she'd left us long before she actually died. But when she did die, a few weeks later I got a constant feeling that I can only describe as being the psychological equivalent of sitting in a cold draught. After some time I realised what it was - my parents had been a sort of buffer zone between me and death, and now they were gone.
I had superb friends, both times, and I didn't suffer the lack of sympathy that you did, anoesis. (Perhaps partly because I don't have a partner or kids to help me? I wonder?) There's no telling how losing a parent will affect you at any age.
Two brief stories. One: I conducted the funeral of an elderly man. At the end of it, one of his sons was a total wreck, tears streaming down his face, barely coherent with grief. His other son came out of the chapel, shook my hand and said, "Nice one, Reverend. But he was an old bugger and I won't miss him."
Two: Noel Coward had a friend whose mother died at over a hundred. His friend grieved deeply and for a long time. Eventually, Coward said, "You really must pull yourself together, you know. It's not unusual to be an orphan at the age of seventy-eight!"
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"What is broken, repair with gold."
Posts: 9779 | From: Manchester | Registered: Sep 2003
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L'organist
Shipmate
# 17338
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Posted
Why is losing a parent so hard: because they were the peeople who first met you as a newborn and so have been in your life for ever - to have that taken away is to lose one of life's anchors.
Or, as HM The Queen put it:
Grief is the price we pay for love.
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Rara temporum felicitate ubi sentire quae velis et quae sentias dicere licet
Posts: 4950 | From: somewhere in England... | Registered: Sep 2012
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Schroedinger's cat
Ship's cool cat
# 64
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Posted
As my mum said after my dad died (15 years ago - and yes it still hurts), I had spent my entire life knowing him, and all of my life experience have been done with his presence - even if distant.
She had known him for "just" 39 years, and had lived a life before him, without him. She is now in her eighties, and so has spent less than half her life married. Whereas I have now spent just the last third of my life without him. The important, formative, time I had with him.
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Blog
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Lord may all my hard times be healing times
take out this broken heart and renew my mind.
Posts: 18859 | From: At the bottom of a deep dark well. | Registered: May 2001
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Anselmina
Ship's barmaid
# 3032
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by anoesis:
What the hell is with all that?
Human nature? Some people probably struggle just to acknowledge the death in your family, death being the awkward thing it is for many of us to talk about anyway. Some people will have had so-so relationships with their own parents who may be dead, so they assume you feel the same way they did when theirs died, sad but not devastated. Some adult children are, in fact, very NOT sad when their parents go.
Some people think your mum's grief is the priority over anyone else's, and so all conversation revolves around her feelings, even though it's you they're talking to. Most of us make that last mistake.
In short, most people aren't trained in grief counselling, or even how to speak to people like yourself who might, or might not, be grieving.
I had the same thing when my Dad died. I still haven't really got over it. It was 13 years ago and because of everything going on at that time, and because I was living away from home, and going straight into a new location after the funeral, I had no mourning period as such. Few people were aware my Dad had died, there was no-one really to talk about it with, and my family were in another country. And all through the dying and the funeral, I was the one who was being strong for Mum.
Since then I have had conversations with people who've understood this. But it's really hard for us to put ourselves into another's place. And conversations about death are particularly fraught with the danger of saying the 'wrong thing'. Some people's reactions are so angry and hurt when 'wrong things' are said, it's not surprizing that people tip-toe very carefully and conventionally around the subject.
It is hurtful when people have not thought to ask you how you were, to realize that your loss was also painful and that your feelings count. The difficult part is knowing what to do with the anger, if we feel angry, at being ignored or disregarded in this way. To realize it's not deliberate. That at best, it's well-meaning enquiry, and at worst just thoughtlessness for any number of good or bad reasons.
I think all we can do is be aware ourselves of how we interact with those who have lost loved ones. To be always open to the possibility of how the person is grieving. I've known brothers losing brothers and sisters who took that event much worse than losing a parent. Or adult children mourning a parent's loss more than a spouse. And equally others who have almost been indifferent. So even when we do open the conversation to allow someone to more fully express their own feelings sometimes we might be a little surprized at their response.
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Irish dogs needing homes! http://www.dogactionwelfaregroup.ie/ Greyhounds and Lurchers are shipped over to England for rehoming too!
Posts: 10002 | From: Scotland the Brave | Registered: Jul 2002
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Heavenly Anarchist
Shipmate
# 13313
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Posted
My father died when I was in my late 20s, my mother 10 years later. I was chatting a few weeks ago to a friend in her forties who had recently lost both her parents within just a few months. One of the things I said was that you felt like an orphan when you lost your parents, regardless of how old you are. As mentioned above, parents are there from the beginning and the loss is very real; they are there in your earliest memories, they helped form who you are today.
I suppose one reason people discuss how someone else is instead of you is that they feel uneasy discussing the subject matter directly, it might be a way of avoiding discussing your personal feelings - which is very sad as acknowledgement is important in bereavement. But I was a nurse for 20 years and am confident with such situations, other people perhaps feel more anxious about handling it.
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'I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.' Douglas Adams
Dog Activity Monitor
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Posts: 2831 | From: Trumpington | Registered: Jan 2008
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Twilight
Puddleglum's sister
# 2832
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Posted
Wow to the above. Anselmina at her finest.
Just as she said we're all different and touchy in different ways. When my brother called to tell me that my mother had died -- not unexpectedly as she had been in a coma -- the first thing I said is "How's Daddy doing?"
It surely was much harder for him than for the three children because, even though we had known her all our lives and lost that anchor (well put) she had been there with him to share every moment of everyday. The spouse is the person who notices that you woke up in the morning, who hears you remark that it snowed last night, and asks you what you want for breakfast. That's who you tell when the water heater goes out and goes with you to buy a new one. That is who you share dinner with and who hears you say that there's nothing good on TV for the hundredth time before you get in bed with them and discuss how many covers you'll need.
Of course it's a huge loss for them, their life seems like a silent vacuum at first and the ones who marry again quickly are the ones who just couldn't stand it, not the ones who didn't care enough.
But, I'm very sympathetic to the grown children too. We do feel like the rug has been pulled out from under us. Those of us who wish we had been better children to our parents will never get another chance and some will have anger issues that never get resolved. Those who felt like this was their one source of unconditional love, may never feel that again. I just wouldn't say all that to a friend who had lost a parent so I would probably just ask how they are doing and then ask how their other parent is doing.
Some people are just going to be so perpetually raw you can't do right with them. About ten years after my mother died, her sister from out of state was passing through and stopped to visit my father. She talked a lot about my mother. This made him furious. How could she be so insensitive? I once sent him a cheerful letter which happened to arrive on the anniversary of her death. He was furious and never forgave me.
I wish someone would explain the anniversary thing to me. I think about my mother on her birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas and a hundred other times a year like when I fry chicken her way and when I plant her favorite flowers in the spring but I can't even tell you the exact day she died and I don't particularly want to know.
Posts: 6817 | Registered: May 2002
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roybart
Shipmate
# 17357
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Posted
I'm an only child, which has its own impact on the grieving process. When my mother died in 1985, she was frail, residing in a nursing hospital, suffering from non-Alzheimer's dementia, and completely in my charge. My extended family is small, dispersed, and not closely involved in each others' lives.
The most surprising feeling I recall was a radical sense that "now I am alone in the world." This despite having a long-term, loving, and mutually supportive relationship, my belief in a loving, caring God, and numerous friends, acquaintances, and professional colleagues.
The unexpectedness and power of the feeling of "now I am alone" came as a kind of shock. That was 27 years ago, but sometimes -- when I am stressed or too involved in the compulsive dailyness of life, and when I allow myself to wander from my relationship with God -- it returns. Powerful as ever, and just as surprising. Always, for a short time, anyway, I believe completely that "now I am alone" is true. I've learned from experience how to deal with this. After a while the feeling goes as quickly as it came.
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"The consolations of the imaginary are not imaginary consolations."
-- Roger Scruton
Posts: 547 | From: here | Registered: Sep 2012
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Heavenly Anarchist
Shipmate
# 13313
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by roybart:
The most surprising feeling I recall was a radical sense that "now I am alone in the world." This despite having a long-term, loving, and mutually supportive relationship, my belief in a loving, caring God, and numerous friends, acquaintances, and professional colleagues.
Yes, this what I meant by being an orphan, that strong sense of being alone. How much more so this must feel as an only child.
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'I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.' Douglas Adams
Dog Activity Monitor
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Posts: 2831 | From: Trumpington | Registered: Jan 2008
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LutheranChik
Shipmate
# 9826
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Posted
I'm an only child too. I lost my mom about six years ago and my dad about five years before that -- both were elderly, but their deaths were rather sudden and unexpected (complications from heart bypass surgery and an aortal aneurysm, respectively).
I think the most insensitive comments I heard after their deaths were rude/nosy/incredibly ill-timed inquiries from some neighbors into what my mother/I were going to do with various family effects. "Are you going to sell your house?" "What are you going to do with your dad's hunting and fishing equipment?" "Going to have an estate sale soon?" To me it was like vultures circling overhead waiting to pick at the bones.
On the other hand, I experienced grace in very unexpected places...our family's tax preparer/my old high school civics teacher, coming to my dad's visitation, shaking my hand and sharing some very gracious words and remembrances about my dad...the Amish family who'd bought our family farm and who had become friends with my parents (they even named their son Henry after my father), coming to the visitation and paying their respects...when my mom died, my "big" boss -- three jumps up the corporate ladder, visiting my office, reminding me that when a second parent dies one becomes an orphan no matter what one's age, that that is a catastrophic psychological event in anyone's life and telling me to expect at least a two-year healing process; to take any time off I felt I needed to if I were having a difficult time in that interim.
It's a hard thing. Six years later I'll still have days when something funny or interesting happens in my life and for just a nanosecond I'll think, "I should call Mom and tell her about this!" And I often wish I could ask my dad's practical advice, or tie up some of the interpersonal loose ends that kept us at arm's length for much of my adulthood.
(PS When I still had my parents' house my normally skeptical partner used to swear that "Hank" still made appearances in our garage, his man cave where he spent much of the day as a retiree -- weird things like the portable radio suddenly coming on during his favorite talk-radio program or sudden whiffs of cigar smoke -- but that she felt him to be a benevolent presence. "I think he likes me," she said. "I think you're the son-in-law he never had," I replied.;-) When we consolidated households Hank's favorite things moved into our garage, but the odd phenomena went away.)
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Simul iustus et peccator
http://www.lutheranchiklworddiary.blogspot.com
Posts: 6462 | From: rural Michigan, USA | Registered: Jul 2005
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argona
Shipmate
# 14037
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Posted
I was talking about this to my daughter just last week. She's mid-twenties, becoming all the more conscious that her parents are mortal and that, if you're fortunate to live so long, you lose them.
I heard someone say once, when your second parent dies, you're nobody's baby any more. So true. And it hits you, whatever age you are.
Posts: 327 | From: Oriental dill patch? (4,7) | Registered: Aug 2008
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Uncle Pete
Loyaute me lie
# 10422
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Posted
My Dad was killed in a traffic accident when I was just 20, my Mother died nearly 19 years later. My grief at my Dad's death was strong and inconsolable which, given the circumstances, was perhaps to be be expected.
When Mother died after a year's decline, which, the Doctors told us early on, was irreversible and inevitable, I was still stunned at her death. That, and a realisation that I and my 4 siblings were orphaned. On the whole, I think we coped pretty well. Mother and Dad stories, Dad stories and Mother stories, they all abound in our collective memories.
But the pain never leaves. I often wonder what they would think of their youngest son as he enters into The Third Age.
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Even more so than I was before
Posts: 20466 | From: No longer where I was | Registered: Sep 2005
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Lucia
Looking for light
# 15201
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Posted
I remember a friend, probably in her 50s when her second parent died saying that as an only child what hit her was there was no longer anyone else who remembered her childhood, the experiences of her family when she was growing up. I guess no-one to have those "do you remember when..." conversations with anymore.
Posts: 1075 | From: Nigh golden stone and spires | Registered: Oct 2009
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Stejjie
Shipmate
# 13941
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by argona:
I was talking about this to my daughter just last week. She's mid-twenties, becoming all the more conscious that her parents are mortal and that, if you're fortunate to live so long, you lose them.
I heard someone say once, when your second parent dies, you're nobody's baby any more. So true. And it hits you, whatever age you are.
My Mum reached 60 this year, my Dad a couple of years ago and, while I know that's not that old (no offence to Shippies aged 60+, honest!), I'm kind of going through what your daughter's going through (although I'm mid-30s, not mid-20s). Both of them, AFAIK, are in good health and I'm sure have many, many more years in front of them. But it did kind of hit me that... one day we're going to have to face that. And I do wonder how we'll deal with that when it happens.
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A not particularly-alt-worshippy, fairly mainstream, mildly evangelical, vaguely post-modern-ish Baptist
Posts: 1117 | From: Urmston, Manchester, UK | Registered: Jul 2008
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Belle Ringer
Shipmate
# 13379
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Posted
When my Dad died, relatives sent flowers to Mom. None to me - no flowers, no cards, no phone calls or emails, except from one friend who knew me and had never met my parents.
Maybe what's happening is people are relating to their own losses and fears? We all know a parent will probably pre-decease us, we all hope the spouse doesn't, so the sympathy is for the surviving spouse having to deal with a situation one can reasonably hope not to experience?
I don't know, just wondering out loud.
Or maybe it's awareness the surviving spouse faces major changes, goes home to a newly empty house, has to adjust to the unfamiliar lifestyle of a single - no one to share the work of life with, no built in companionship to chat with or go to a movie or meal with, etc. The adult who lives apart from the parents is not facing jarring physical circumstances adjustments.
But the emotional adjustment can be brutal. Especially for a single when the last parent dies, now no one on the planet wakes up in the morning and thinks of you. That's a huge loss.
Posts: 5830 | From: Texas | Registered: Jan 2008
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Gramps49
Shipmate
# 16378
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Posted
As can be seen in all the posts, people experience grief in various ways.
I am sorry for your loss anoesis. Thank you for being so forthcoming in how you are feeling now.
I think several people alluded to getting grief counseling. I think that might be a good idea. Check with your primary care provider. I would hope s/he would be able to give you a suitable reference.
Posts: 2193 | From: Pullman WA | Registered: Apr 2011
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LutheranChik
Shipmate
# 9826
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Lucia:
I remember a friend, probably in her 50s when her second parent died saying that as an only child what hit her was there was no longer anyone else who remembered her childhood, the experiences of her family when she was growing up. I guess no-one to have those "do you remember when..." conversations with anymore.
I've thought that too. I mean, my partner and I have a shared collection of family stories. I love my stepkids and they treat me like a mom, and Son #2 and DiL are very mindful of teaching our granddaughter about family connections and family lore so that she's grounded in that knowledge; but we live apart from one another, and there are not a lot of opportunities to casually pass those stories on. And even though I feel integrated into the fam to an incredible degree, I still feel myself enough of a step-parent to assume that my childhood won't be as interesting to our granddaughter as my partner's childhood. But maybe that's because we didn't have a lot of divorce or remarriage in my own extended family (not that it wouldn't have been a good idea in some cases) and I'm just projecting my own experience onto a child who is growing up in a family with a far more fluid understanding of what "family" means.
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Simul iustus et peccator
http://www.lutheranchiklworddiary.blogspot.com
Posts: 6462 | From: rural Michigan, USA | Registered: Jul 2005
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Anselmina
Ship's barmaid
# 3032
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Twilight:
I wish someone would explain the anniversary thing to me. I think about my mother on her birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas and a hundred other times a year like when I fry chicken her way and when I plant her favorite flowers in the spring but I can't even tell you the exact day she died and I don't particularly want to know.
I think it must boil down to what you as an individual do with 'dates'. As much as I miss my Dad, I only remember his death-date because I know my Mum expects me to, because it's rarely out of her mind. And I don't really mark that date specifically in any way - though I do visit his grave sometimes when I go home. If I'm being very good, I might remember on the day itself and phone Mum. But other times, she's phoned me and reminded me, which I've felt guilty about.
I'm also a bit slap-dash with people's birthdays. Whereas I have relatives to whom it's almost a life and death matter.
OTOH, I noticed yesterday in a shop the card-rack for Father's Day, and it really jolted me.
Posts: 10002 | From: Scotland the Brave | Registered: Jul 2002
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no prophet's flag is set so...
Proceed to see sea
# 15560
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Posted
It is more complicated if the relationship with the parent(s) was distant. My parents moved from Canada one month after our first child was born. They visited once every 2nd year or so for a week or 10 days, often refusing to stay with us, often bringing their own health foods, which of course we'd have provided so we could eat together. I forced us on them several times; it's not a trivial trip to get there: 3 planes and a 2 hour drive, takes about 18-20 hours. They'd built a house with no guest space, let alone enough room for a family of 4 to visit. As my mother began to fail in health after a fall, I ended up booking a trip to visit against my father's wishes, but she died 2 days before I arrived. I did the funeral, if you can call it one from a lay person, shaking with a prayer book and some readings and my equally shaking sister.
After, people constantly asked how I was with her death, and related things. But I was on the opposite side I think to most of you. I didn't know her well in the 25 years of distance. Neither my father. I was more upset with the low quality and distance with the relationship, and upset that it could not have been close. No really able to miss someone I didn't know for a quarter of a century, at her and my father's choice.
So it can cut the other way. I found myself much more sensitive to assumptions that it was a good relationship or a close one, and that I would be more upset than I was. I was far, far closer to my inlaws and grieved much more for their passing. I am working hard on the relationship with my mid-80s father. Moved him back to Canada 2 years ago, organizing his health care, set him in in assisted living, trying to see my way clear to leaving prior distance behind in the face of his present. neediness. I have a chance of normal response I think when he dies.
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Out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
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Posts: 11498 | From: Treaty 6 territory in the nonexistant Province of Buffalo, Canada ↄ⃝' | Registered: Mar 2010
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LutheranChik
Shipmate
# 9826
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Posted
I don't really remember my parents' death anniversaries...I think my dad's was around Jan. 13, and my mom's was in April. They're not days I particularly want to remind myself of in a ritual way. As noted above, I think I would rather honor my parents' memories by things I do on an ongoing basis, like using my mom's old Fire King bowls when I cook or using a tool from my dad's toolbox.
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Simul iustus et peccator
http://www.lutheranchiklworddiary.blogspot.com
Posts: 6462 | From: rural Michigan, USA | Registered: Jul 2005
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argona
Shipmate
# 14037
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Lucia:
I remember a friend, probably in her 50s when her second parent died saying that as an only child what hit her was there was no longer anyone else who remembered her childhood, the experiences of her family when she was growing up. I guess no-one to have those "do you remember when..." conversations with anymore.
Oh yes! My family moved to London from a small town in Kent when I was 10. I'm the eldest of three by quite a margin, neither my brother nor sister remember those early days. It really struck me when my mother died, how my childhood now existed only in my own fallible memory.
Posts: 327 | From: Oriental dill patch? (4,7) | Registered: Aug 2008
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Darllenwr
Shipmate
# 14520
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Posted
My parents died inside the space of 2 1/2 years: mum in April 2007, dad in October 2009. Mum's death was not unexpected - she was in a hospice for her last few days at her own request, unable to eat or drink. Dad just snuck off unexpected like - my sister was due to take him to the local hospital for an appointment but was not well and asked dad whether he could find somebody else. He replied that he would see what he could do. As she heard no more, she assumed that all was well. But, on the other hand, once she had heard nothing from him some 3 hours after his appointment, she went to the house and found him lying dead on his bed, his hand behind his head as though he had just lain back for a brief rest.
It came as a big shock. I had made arrangements to meet dad on the following day (we live 100 miles away) and had just finished loading the car for an early start when my sister called to say what she had found.
I had discovered only 5 days before that dad had terminal cancer. He had sworn my sister to secrecy (they lived in the same town) and she was quite literally the only person other that his doctors that knew. I had learned by accident when I called to ask what he wanted to do about Christmas and he said, "I wouldn't look that far ahead if I were you." That was when it all came out.
OK, so he was nearly 83. But it was still a huge shock. I find that we are apt to attribute a sort of indestructability to the important people in our lives - somehow we cannot imagine them dying, even though we know perfectly well that they will. It was the same when family friend Dr Russell Coope died - he was just too large a character to be dead.
I have found that it is the trivial things that sting most. Some months ago I found myself wondering where the piano had lived in our house in Parkfield Road prior to the move to Heath Lane in 1966. And there was nobody I could ask. That was what stung. My sister couldn't tell me, as she was only 2 when we moved from that house. And suddenly it was vitally important.
Explain that, if you can.
I think that most of us are completely unprepared for our parents' deaths, even though we have known it for the inevitability that it is. And there is no knowing how we will be affected. Neither is there any predicting how people around us will react. Mostly, I have been met with silence but, to be fair to all concerned, I doubt that I am very approachable.
And no, I don't think that you "get over it." Even now, nearly 4 years on, little things will tip me over the edge and it will take me several hours to get back on track. Writing this now is really chewing me up, for example. I miss my regular telephone conversations with my mother - as was said upthread, there will be that brief, "I must mention that to ... Ah..."
Suddenly the world is a very big, empty, place.
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If I've told you once, I've told you a million times: I do not exaggerate!
Posts: 1101 | From: The catbox | Registered: Jan 2009
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rolyn
Shipmate
# 16840
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Posted
It hit fairly when dad died in 03 from Lymphoma , then, surprisingly harder when mum died in 08 from an accumulation of mini-strokes ending in a big one.
I'm the youngest of 5 so tended to go through life regarded as the 'baby' of the batch, though I wouldn't say spoiled.
Everyone was very good at the time and neither death was unexpected . I'm not sure if the process of losing them can even be described as grief, more of a very slow-burn thing with the gradual realisation they are gone and won't be coming back . The manner in which both are missed can't readily be put into words as both were valued friends as-well as parents.
I do also identify with what's been said up-thread about the feeling of being orphaned and having that psychologically protective barrier removed . The one we always believed stood between us and the normal methodology of the Reaper.
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Change is the only certainty of existence
Posts: 3206 | From: U.K. | Registered: Dec 2011
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Ad Orientem
Shipmate
# 17574
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Posted
My dad unexpectedly died three and a half years ago in a road traffic accident. He was sixty-one. Obviously, the older you get you know it's inevitable, being the natural order of things. It still comes as a big shock though. The realisation kicks in somewhat later though. For me it was a few months afterwards.
Losing a sibling is (or at least it was for me) harder. My brother died recently. That was hard. It still is. As a general rule in both cases I didn't tell anyone who didn't need to know to avoided all the inevitable questions.
Posts: 2606 | From: Finland | Registered: Feb 2013
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WearyPilgrim
Shipmate
# 14593
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by L'organist:
Why is losing a parent so hard: because they were the people who first met you as a newborn and so have been in your life for ever - to have that taken away is to lose one of life's anchors.
Or, as HM The Queen put it:
Grief is the price we pay for love.
Beautifully expressed, by you and Her Majesty.
I'm sixty-two and an only child. I lost my father to cancer two weeks after I turned twelve, and it took twenty years for me to start expressing my grief openly. (The death of a beloved cat was the catalyst. I fell apart.) My mother died of a stroke ten years ago. Their deaths, respectively, affected my life profoundly in ways that I'm only now beginning to fully understand. The feeling of being orphaned is sometimes very real and very visceral.
Posts: 383 | From: Sedgwick, Maine USA | Registered: Feb 2009
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Nenya
Shipmate
# 16427
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by anoesis:
Will that feel the same, then, or will I be different enough by then to respond to it differently?
Losing someone you love will always leave a gaping chasm. That's as it should be really - if they didn't it would mean the person wasn't important. Although each grief has its own uniqueness. My brother died 18 months ago, my mum last September, and I'm sad about both losses for different reasons. My brother was only in his early 60s and he didn't want to die. My mum was 92 and desperate to go. She wouldn't want to be here now, so I couldn't wish her back, but I miss her so much. It's that sense of being orphaned, and losing the person who has known you for the longest time and is always completely and unconditionally on your side.
I don't think we ever "get over" a loss. I think we just get accustomed to it and learn to live with it. I am sorry for yours, and for all who have lost a loved one.
Nen - whose father died 24 years ago; he would have been 100 last week.
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They told me I was delusional. I nearly fell off my unicorn.
Posts: 1289 | Registered: May 2011
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Jack the Lass
Ship's airhead
# 3415
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Posted
Both of my parents are still alive and apparently well, but this discussion has reminded me of something my mum said when my grandad died. My maternal grandmother died when I was 7 or 8; my maternal grandfather about 15 years or so later. The last few years of his life he was clearly becoming more and more demented, although nobody told my family this until after he died. He never got over his wife's death and I think was probably very depressed although he would never go to the doctor. After he died I remember my mum saying that now she felt she could grieve for both her parents, as she felt that he was so overcome with his own grief at her mum's death that he wouldn't allow his children to grieve themselves. ![[Frown]](frown.gif)
[ 10. June 2013, 21:11: Message edited by: Jack the Lass ]
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"My body is a temple - it's big and doesn't move." (Jo Brand)
wiblog blipfoto blog
Posts: 5767 | From: the land of the deep-fried Mars Bar | Registered: Oct 2002
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Trudy Scrumptious
BBE Shieldmaiden
# 5647
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Posted
The image that popped into my head the day after my mom died when I was leaving the funeral home, was "It's as if I walked outside and suddenly the sky wasn't there." The absence -- especially if sudden, but I guess also if you know it's coming -- of a presence that's been huge, pervasive and constant your whole life. My mother and I didn't always have an easy relationship -- it had gotten much better in recent years, which is one reason I'm glad she lived as long as she did -- but it was always close and she was definitely a bigger influence on my life than anyone else.
What I'm learning from this thread is something I already knew theoretically from taking courses in grief counselling -- that the experience of loss is unique for everyone and everyone processes it differently. Which does make it hard to know how best to offer condolences to people, knowing that even if you have been through a very similar loss you haven't "been there." So if I were to meet another 47-year-old only child whose 78-year-old mother had died very suddenly of an apparent stroke on the way to a concert, leaving her beloved husband of 50 years bereft, I couldn't certainly commiserate in some ways but it's possible that woman's response to losing her mother might be quite different from mine.
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Books and things.
I lied. There are no things. Just books.
Posts: 7428 | From: Closer to Paris than I am to Vancouver | Registered: Mar 2004
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ExclamationMark
Shipmate
# 14715
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Posted
Losing my mother (just over 3 years ago - she was 75) is tied up with other things going on at the time, as well as the event itself. Her death was not expected and her last days of life were accompanied by woeful failings in care and support by the hospital where she was an in patient. Unknown to us, the Doctors were aware that she was terminally ill but didn't get round to telling us.....
Worse than that my dad was in the same hospital having collapsed while visiting her. He was in intensive care before recovering. My parents were not allowed to see each other before my mum died (one or both could have been taken to see the other)nor to prepare themselves for her death - they had been married for 55 years.
An 8 page letter of apology from a flagship NHS 3 star hospital is witness to the whole saga.
At the same time as this my youngest daughter married (mum went into hospital that day) and we had to keep it from said daughter so as not to spoil the day or honeymoon. Eldest daughter was pregnant and due around that time: she was hospitalisd with pre eclampsia ands asked to make a decision whether to save the baby or her: she chose to save the child. She gave birth normally 7 days after mum died: she had the great grandson mum longed to see and who she knew would be born. In her dyoing moments she was able to feel the baby move as my daughters was at the hospiatl with my wife. In the space of 20 days, we had a wedding, a death, a birth, a funeral plus another parent who pulled through (I returned from a holiday having been told he was dying). Oh and just to cap it all, my uncle was in the same hospital on the day mum died - he's her brother.
I took part in the funeral service and did the woodland burial committal. The initial sense of shock was overcome by the need to get through things. Within the next 4 weeks I officiated at 5 funerals - all mothers. 3 I knew well: all much the same as usual
4 months later in the middle of taking a Sunday service, I lost the plot big time - out of nowehere. People understood and someone took over until I had recovered
The level of trauma in all the events of those 20 or so days is still working its way out. My mum and I were not particularly close although (and I can admit this now) it was only in the last 2 days of her life - when she not we possibly knew she was dying - that she said how much she loved me. I'm still not sure how to process that or indeed any of it - a work in progress.
What had made her last day happy was one of those encounters that life sometimes throws up. My dad (still in the hospital) had chatted to a chaplain (dad is not a believer). He asked the chaplain if she could visit my mum. She couldn't she said but would send one of the team. The chaplain arrived and chatted to my mum. He was a baptist minister and when my mum told him I was one too, he asked my name. It was one of my old college tutors who said how much he'd enjoyed teaching me and how well I had done at college. I believe that conversation gave her soemthing that helped her last hours with some peace and joy.
[ 10. June 2013, 21:42: Message edited by: ExclamationMark ]
Posts: 3845 | From: A new Jerusalem | Registered: Apr 2009
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anoesis
Shipmate
# 14189
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Posted
Thanks everyone for your replies - there is a lot of familiar stuff here, and a lot of stuff I hadn't felt/thought of either. Which just goes to show how unique the experience is, I suppose.
To those who have said that folk probably ask how my mother is doing because they are uncomfortable asking me directly how I am doing - I know this, and I have almost certainly been guilty of the same thing myself in the past. You don't want to make people discuss with you something they may be uncomfortable with or still processing, so you don't approach the topic in case it is difficult for them. What I now know is that it is also difficult to be the one who is not offered an opportunity to talk about stuff.
There is more I could say, but I'm at work now so will focus on that and come back later.
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The history of humanity give one little hope that strength left to its own devices won't be abused. Indeed, it gives one little ground to think that strength would continue to exist if it were not abused. -- Dafyd --
Posts: 993 | From: New Zealand | Registered: Oct 2008
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Sarah G
Shipmate
# 11669
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Posted
My mother has a couple of months left, and I'm even now relating to a lot of the thinking here. Denial is working well, but there are just odd times when something reminds me of it all, and those sorts of things catch me up.
If you find the time to pray that her remaining weeks will go well for her, and those others around her, I would appreciate it.
Posts: 514 | Registered: Jul 2006
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argona
Shipmate
# 14037
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Posted
When, as I said up thread, I was talking to my daughter about this very matter last week, she said to me, at one point... "I'll miss you." Hopefully we were talking about something a good way ahead yet, but it was one of the most gut-wrenching moments of my life when she said that. Just the thought.
Posts: 327 | From: Oriental dill patch? (4,7) | Registered: Aug 2008
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argona
Shipmate
# 14037
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Sarah G:
My mother has a couple of months left, and I'm even now relating to a lot of the thinking here. Denial is working well, but there are just odd times when something reminds me of it all, and those sorts of things catch me up.
If you find the time to pray that her remaining weeks will go well for her, and those others around her, I would appreciate it.
Give her peace in these last days here Lord, and when her moment comes, take her gently to her place with you. Fold your love around those who love her.
Posts: 327 | From: Oriental dill patch? (4,7) | Registered: Aug 2008
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Rafin
Apprentice
# 17713
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Posted
I'm sorry for your loss. I haven't lost a parent but i don't have a close family and know what its like to feel like my feelings aren't considered.
I think to some degree it's just the way people approach the issue. We don't know what to say to someone when they are hurting. I don't think people are trying to assume it is necessarily harder on your mother. It may just be their way of showing concern for your family without having to confront you with how you are feeling.
Honestly, i don't really know what to say to people in a bad time. I find they just need someone to listen more than speak. Maybe when they are asking about your mom it is their way of inviting you to share what you are feeling if you want to.
I don't know what the answer is. But if you are lucky enough to have people in your life to talk to about it, you might have to start the conversation. I've seen it go both ways. I sincerely hope you are doing well though, and that you get through your difficult time.
Posts: 21 | From: USA | Registered: Jun 2013
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Beautiful Dreamer
Shipmate
# 10880
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by anoesis:
It would have been my Dad's birthday today. He died about two and a half years ago. Not sure exactly what I want to explore around this, but it starts with this story:
For three or four months after Dad died, everyone I met would greet me by saying some variant of; "Hey there - how's your Mum getting on? How's your Mum coping? Is your Mum ok, do you think?" Even today, if I run into someone who hasn't seen me for several months, they are almost bound to say "And how's your Mum?", one or two sentences into their enquiries.
I know they are just being kind/polite, but after the first little while, this started to really get to me. I reply that she seems fine, thanks, and I think to myself either a:) well, you know her, you could ask her yourself how she's getting on, or b:) you've never even met my mother, why are you asking after her? Why don't you ask me how I'm doing?
I think what's at the root of the resentment I have to this line of questioning is this undertone that my mother is the one who has suffered the real loss here - her life partner. Whereas I might have been expected to have trouble adjusting, and be worthy of following up, if I were a child who had lost her father, but no, I'm adult who had left home many years before, so it is assumed not to affect me all that much. What the hell is with all that? How many fathers am I going to have in my lifetime? So I didn't live in the same house as him - so what? There was a jar of cherry jam in the fridge that only he ate from, and a coffee cup in my cupboard with a handle big enough for him to clasp in his huge hand, that no-one else ever used. (I chucked it out yesterday).
There will be hundreds of folk out there who have lost one or both parents - because, let's face it, it happens to (almost) all of us eventually. I wonder, is it any different, experientially, depending on how old/mature/independent of them one is, or there some sense in which one is always a child with respect to one's parents? I know people who lost a parent in their teens, and it really left a gaping chasm in their lives. I am in my thirties - guess what, it seems to have left a gaping chasm in my life. I expect to be in my mid sixties at least before my mother shuffles off this mortal coil, given the longevity of all her other (non-smoking) family members. Will that feel the same, then, or will I be different enough by then to respond to it differently?
I lost my mom fifteen years ago. Tomorrow will be her birthday.
I don't think it matters how old you are or what else you have going on in your life-you are never 'ready' to lose a parent. You might know it will happen ahead of time if they are old or sick for a long time, but IMO there's still going to be that sense of loss. I know it was (and is) true for me.
Just because we 'grow up' and move away doesn't mean we stop needing our parents in our lives; it's just a different kind of need. I'm in my 30s as well and, no matter how much older I get, a part of me will still always be my parents' child. That's just the type of relationship we have...YMMV.
I hope I've helped...
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More where that came from
Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!
Posts: 6028 | From: Outside Atlanta, GA | Registered: Jan 2006
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Nicolemr
Shipmate
# 28
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Posted
I lost my father back in 2002 and my mother in 2011. The sense of loss of family is the worst thing, it makes me want to cling to my brothers and daughter intensly. I remember my mother saying, when my grandfather died, "Now I'm an orphan". That's how I feel... the binding together of the family is gone.
Partly it's because my ex husband left me right at the time my mother's health was getting very bad indeed. But partly it's just losing my parents. I'm an orphan now.
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On pilgrimage in the endless realms of Cyberia, currently traveling by ship. Now with live journal!
Posts: 11803 | From: New York City "The City Carries On" | Registered: May 2001
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PaulBC
Shipmate
# 13712
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Posted
My father died of cancer in 1981 , mum of heart failure etc in 2008 . The pain both time was hard to take . I was 30 the first time , and my late 50's the second time . But I knew they no longer felt pain or confusion so they were better off . Oh I still miss them and will the day I join them . ![[Votive]](graemlins/votive.gif) ![[Angel]](graemlins/angel.gif) ![[Smile]](smile.gif)
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"He has told you O mortal,what is good;and what does the Lord require of youbut to do justice and to love kindness ,and to walk humbly with your God."Micah 6:8
Posts: 873 | From: Victoria B.C. Canada | Registered: May 2008
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AmyBo
Shipmate
# 15040
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Posted
Dad was my rock, and it shook me to the core when he died, 7 years ago yesterday. I was 26. I was surrounded by loving friends who had been through the same, and a few horrible jerks (Mom told my boss to go to hell and back at the visitation, but in such a way that he thought she was such a nice lady).
I got a lot of questions about Mom, too. But with us, I understood that they watched Mom go through Dad's illness with him, and knew that my family's next big hurdle would be making sure Mom made it through. She did, but it took several years.
My husband's dad died 2 years before mine. It was rough on him. When my dad died, I told him that I was sorry, I didn't get it when his dad died. He just said he was glad. So whenever I got insensitive remarks, I tried to think, "oh, good for them, they don't understand yet."
Posts: 122 | From: Minnesota | Registered: Aug 2009
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Rowen
Shipmate
# 1194
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Posted
My parents are both dead, and now, even now, sometimes I miss them so much, it physically hurts. And yet, as a social worker and minister, I know I coped with their deaths well. But here is my reason why.... My oldest sister shared a room with me for the first fifteen years of my life. She was fifteen herself when the baby went into the crib in her room....
So, at the funeral of our father she turned to me and said "You may technically be an orphan now, at 46.... But whilst I am around, you will never BE a really truly orphan."
But one day, she will die. And then my grieving will be different yet again.
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"May I live this day… compassionate of heart" (John O’Donoghue)...
Posts: 4897 | From: Somewhere cold in Victoria, Australia | Registered: Aug 2001
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bib
Shipmate
# 13074
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Posted
My Dad died suddenly in 1997 and Mum in 2008. I think about them frequently and often find myself thinking that Mum would find an item of news or whatever interesting. And then I remember I can't phone her. I'm sure most of my friends have forgotten all about my parents and would say that I should have got over it by now. However, my dear neighbour who recently lost her Mum apologised to me for not empathising enough as she now knows what I went through. It is often difficult to put yourself in another's shoes unless you have been there yourself. Maybe people ask how your parent is coping rather than you or others in the family, as they want to protect themselves from coping with emotional scenes. Often I think it is due to shyness and difficulties dealing directly with feelings, but that doesn't mean that people don't care. The question about the parent's welfare may be an indirect way of enquiring about your welfare.
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"My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, accept the praise I bring"
Posts: 1307 | From: Australia | Registered: Oct 2007
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anoesis
Shipmate
# 14189
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by AmyBo:
My husband's dad died 2 years before mine. It was rough on him. When my dad died, I told him that I was sorry, I didn't get it when his dad died. He just said he was glad. So whenever I got insensitive remarks, I tried to think, "oh, good for them, they don't understand yet."
This is interesting - about the not getting it. My husband's parents are both alive and well - in fact, two of his grandparents are alive and reasonably spry, all things considered. He doesn't really get it. (He knows this, by the way, and has done everything he reasonably can to support me, and I am very grateful for it, but it can't make up for 'getting' it). I guess someone has to go first down all these paths, though. An interesting side-effect of this is that my brother and I have become much closer. We haven't lived anywhere near each other for almost 20 years and used to (attempt to) talk on the phone maybe twice a year, and visit a good deal less than that. Now I probably spend as much time on the phone to him as I do to my Mum. We don't usually get into anything deep and meaningful, just chit chat, but it is comforting somehow to know you are talking to someone who 'gets' it - and also, as someone else mentioned much further above, he is kind of my fellow keeper-of-memories of Dad, of our shared experience of him, and that feels important to be doing.
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The history of humanity give one little hope that strength left to its own devices won't be abused. Indeed, it gives one little ground to think that strength would continue to exist if it were not abused. -- Dafyd --
Posts: 993 | From: New Zealand | Registered: Oct 2008
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anoesis
Shipmate
# 14189
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Beautiful Dreamer:
I lost my mom fifteen years ago. Tomorrow will be her birthday.
I'm sorry for your loss - it's probably today by now. I hope you have the opportunity to spend at least some of the day in a way that feels right to you for marking the occasion.
quote:
Originally posted by Beautiful Dreamer:
I don't think it matters how old you are or what else you have going on in your life-you are never 'ready' to lose a parent. You might know it will happen ahead of time if they are old or sick for a long time, but IMO there's still going to be that sense of loss. I know it was (and is) true for me.
It's good to hear someone say this - I had been wondering how much of the wrench I feel had to do with it not being 'the right time' - you know, you do hear people saying after the death of a loved one, that they are at peace with the whole, because it was 'her time to go', or 'the best thing for him', or 'she was ready to go', and so on. Usually applied to the very elderly and/or very sick. Now, with the rational part of my mind, I can do this trick. I can say that my Dad had a reasonable share of years (he was in his 70's), that he was lucky not to have a long and disabling illness, not to become a dependent and a burden on others (which he would have hated) - that, for him, to die suddenly while still fairly hale and healthy, was a good thing. I can say this. I have said this - to any number of people. I can't really feel it. All I feel is that it was out of time - too soon, it was unfair, it was ghastly, awful, and shocking, and that, to be honest, while I can make the words 'it was the best thing for him', if I had the choice to undo it, I would. For him and for me.
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The history of humanity give one little hope that strength left to its own devices won't be abused. Indeed, it gives one little ground to think that strength would continue to exist if it were not abused. -- Dafyd --
Posts: 993 | From: New Zealand | Registered: Oct 2008
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anoesis
Shipmate
# 14189
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Sarah G:
My mother has a couple of months left, and I'm even now relating to a lot of the thinking here. Denial is working well, but there are just odd times when something reminds me of it all, and those sorts of things catch me up.
If you find the time to pray that her remaining weeks will go well for her, and those others around her, I would appreciate it.
See, I am getting paid with my own coin here. I complain about people not offering me an opening to discuss how I am dealing with my grief, and then I read the pain in this post, and my gut response is kind of to look away - because I don't know how to deal with it - I don't know what to say that will help. I have no right to complain, I'm just as bad. Sarah, I hope you are offered a lot of practical help as well as a lot of prayer, and I guess from this thread, if nothing else, you can know you are not walking the road entirely alone...
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The history of humanity give one little hope that strength left to its own devices won't be abused. Indeed, it gives one little ground to think that strength would continue to exist if it were not abused. -- Dafyd --
Posts: 993 | From: New Zealand | Registered: Oct 2008
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Anselmina
Ship's barmaid
# 3032
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Rafin:
Honestly, i don't really know what to say to people in a bad time.
Just using this quote to say that sometimes the best place to start, perhaps, is with 'I don't know what to say...' or 'I don't have the words..' And take it from there according to the other person's response. And you're quite right, listening - even just allowing those long, uncomfortable silences can be the most helpful thing at times.
no prophet's post highlights a very real situation for a lot of people, too. As a minister taking funerals, I've gone through the occasional time when I've thought - not really seriously, I suppose! - what was needed was a service that didn't assume next of kin were passionataely grieving the deceased; or beside themselves with grief. Or for services that had more general connotations of how people can feel very sad and regretful about the death of a relative but not because they were close to, or even liked that person.
There are one or two prayers acknowledging difficult relationships with the deceased. But most of the service is in the context of how deeply grieving for the deceased, how bereft the next of kin must be. And maybe their grief has a different centre altogether. Or maybe they're simply too far removed from the deceased to have any intense feelings at all about the loss.
It's not my thread, but I've found the posts here very moving and illuminating and would like to say thank you to those who are sharing in this way.
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Irish dogs needing homes! http://www.dogactionwelfaregroup.ie/ Greyhounds and Lurchers are shipped over to England for rehoming too!
Posts: 10002 | From: Scotland the Brave | Registered: Jul 2002
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Martin60
Shipmate
# 368
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Posted
anoesis lost my Dad when I was 28. It can stop me in my tracks, have me falling down the existential elevator shaft any time. Dreams. Jokes. Stuff. It's a hole that he will more than fill again when I go to him.
Posts: 17586 | From: Never Dobunni after all. Corieltauvi after all. Just moved to the capital. | Registered: Jun 2001
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Hedgehog
Ship's Shortstop
# 14125
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by anoesis:
I complain about people not offering me an opening to discuss how I am dealing with my grief, and then I read the pain in this post, and my gut response is kind of to look away - because I don't know how to deal with it - I don't know what to say that will help.
I don't want to go into details about the respective deaths of my parents because, if I do, I know I will start crying. And I am at work, so that would Not Be Optimal.
The following may seem trivial, but bear with me. There is a point: Shortly after my father died, the TV series Buffy, The Vampire Slayer did an episode where Buffy's mother died (of natural causes). (And, yes, I spent the whole episode crying my eyes out.) At one point, her friends, who have been trying to comfort her, find excuses to do something else, leaving Buffy with a new member of the group, Tara. Buffy says to her: "They don't understand. None of them have lost a mother." Tara then reveals that she has. But she then quickly follows it up with the comment: "I know it is different for you. Because it is always different."
And that is the point. It is so hard to handle others' grief because it is always different. For all of us. For example, after my mother died, the only person I snapped at was my oldest brother--and I snapped because he asked me how I was doing. [Can't explain why. Tears. Work. See above.]
Grief is a mine field. And others cannot truly understand because...it is always different. It is not their fault. And it is not our fault. It is just different.
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"We must regain the conviction that we need one another, that we have a shared responsibility for others and the world, and that being good and decent are worth it."--Pope Francis, Laudato Si'
Posts: 2740 | From: Delaware, USA | Registered: Sep 2008
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Beautiful Dreamer
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Posted
Anoesis, I know what you mean re: wanting to take it away. My mom always took my pain away...I felt bad that I couldn't to the same for her. She had cancer, which is something I wouldn't wish on anyone.
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More where that came from
Now go away, or I shall taunt you a second time!
Posts: 6028 | From: Outside Atlanta, GA | Registered: Jan 2006
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