Losing a spouse is extraordinarily difficult but was losing a mother even worse for my children? And how do you cope, together?
My mother is heavily involved in my life – sometimes more than I might want her to be. She brings her well-earned wisdom to my romantic life, my parenting skills, she even gives financial advice to her son, the financial advisor. For free.
My mother is 88 years old. Needless to say, I’ve known her all my life. Sadly, my own children can’t say the same.
I know I’m blessed to have always had my mother at my side. Most of us might expect to lose one parent, or both, in our 50s. Not at 27, 25 and 17, which is how old my three kids were when their mom passed.
So how could I relate to their situation? I knew the pain of losing a partner, but not the pain of losing a mother.
My kids will never have my experience, but I’d like to share what I’ve seen of theirs. My children’s mother died when they were in or approaching adulthood, but it still hit them hard. Knowing how my family coped might help yours in a similar situation.
What happens when your “rock” is no longer there?
Mary was our family’s rock. For 30 years she was a stay-at-home mom, taking care of the house and kids so I could focus on my career and running my financial planning practice. When I look back, I had the easier job.
She was always, and I mean always, there for our three. When they were younger, she fed and nourished them – physically, emotionally, intellectually. As they grew older, she became a shoulder to cry on and a friend to laugh with. She went to hockey games and attended school plays, played referee in sibling rivalries, and presided over sleepovers. You name it, Mary was involved – happily so.
Family meant everything to Mary; bringing everyone together for birthdays, holidays, the annual yes-we’re-all-going-together family vacation… I wonder if those would’ve happened without her.
Yes, I’m going on and on about Mary. But only to emphasize the void not having her has created.
Mary’s illness meant she couldn’t be there as she’d always been before. The strongest person in our kids’ lives simply wasn’t strong enough. Believe me, she tried her best. Her absence was already felt before she was actually gone.
When Mary died on January 15, 2020, hope was replaced by reality. Now, our kids are as different as three beings sharing the same DNA could possibly be, but I was honestly surprised at how each approached grief in their own way.
Three children. Three very different processes.
For their own privacy I won’t name names – but they’ll know who they are. I also won’t use pronouns, I’ll go with them, they and their.
All three kids spent countless hours at Mary’s bedside in the hospital and, ultimately, at hospice. Two actually recorded these bedside conversations, knowing they’d never have the chance again.
Child A moved forward quickly, or at least seemed to. Child B struggled. Child C found it almost impossible, despite therapy.
Why so different?
It strikes me that Child A may have stuffed their grief into a neat box and closed the lid. Personally, I don’t think grief can be ignored – who knows what might trigger an emotion that might force Child A to deal with their loss. Anxiety, anger, depression, health issues… all of the bad things that accompany grief can’t simply be ignored. At least not for long.
Child B immersed themself in routine. So, grief is there, just in the back seat. More sadness might be waiting to pounce, but daily deadlines and routines come first.
And then there’s Child C, who seems to sincerely believe that forever grieving for their mom is honouring her, that being sad will make mom happy.
I have to admit, this all leaves me feeling powerless. I can barely cope with my own emotional gut punch, let alone my kids. Mary might have been able to do it if I was gone and not her, she may have been stronger and smarter than me.
But I work hard at being available to my kids and listening to them. Being the rock that was someone else’s job before.
“Moving on” vs. “Moving forward”.
Yes, there is a difference.
Leaving a job you hate, breaking up, that’s when you move on. It happened, you forget it, and say, “Next”. But my kids and I don’t want to forget Mary, so we can’t just move on.
But we do want to live and be happy. And that means moving forward. Yes, both the sad and happy of Mary will always be with us, but I’m permitting myself to go positively into the future.
How long does it take to move forward? I have no idea. I’ve read it can take six to 18 months, but that sounds terribly clinical to me and, honestly, somewhat condescending – like grief should work to a schedule. Like saying, “Get over it.”
Reality is, it takes as long as it takes. And it’s different for everyone. My kids are proof of this. Each had a difficult first year, and for two of them (and for me, too), Year 2 was harder. Now, a few months into Year 3, we’ve all passed that recommended 6-to-18 month guideline, and – while better – we still have some time to go. Yes, we’re progressing, but for each few steps forward we’ll inevitably take one back.
But it is progress.
Advice for those who have what I still do.
Losing the person who gave you life can be the most painful experience imaginable. I saw how it affected my kids; I wish I could snap my fingers and make that pain disappear, but I can’t. All I can do is ask myself, “What would Mary do?” Sometimes she actually answers me.
Ultimately, as trite and obvious as it might seem and while she’s with you, let your mother know what she means to you. Tell her how much you love and appreciate her. Do it while you can. Do it often. Do it as if she might not be here tomorrow.
I’m calling mine right now.
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