I am quickly approaching age 53, which is the age my mom was when she died. This is so weird. So weird. As we get older, I think we gain more compassion and understanding for our parents and their shortcomings. Maybe we see ourselves in them as we grapple with the challenges of aging and parenting our older children. For me, I wonder how my mom felt about certain things. I know she used to wait up for me when I was out, for example. I did just that for Luca last night, and thought of how many times my mom must have fought sleep (or fallen asleep on the couch) waiting up for me, needing to know I was home safe before she could call it a night. How did my mom feel about her nest getting empty? I wish I knew how she truly survived her divorce and the death of her father – she was about as old as I was when I lost her.
This got me thinking about my grandmothers, too. Grandma Marie always said being 40 years old was the best time, and my sisters and I have always said that she’s 40 in heaven. Why did she choose 40? My dad was a kid then as my grandma suffered pregnancy loss before his birth, a birth that was considered a “miracle” at the time. That’s my dad: the miracle boy. Did she love 40 because she was finally a mom and doing the things she had hoped and dreamed of? This was the 1940s when there were not a whole lot of options for women. Which got me thinking in a new direction… what would she have done if she’d not been able to have my dad? What would her life have looked like in that scenario? Was that a thing she worried about? So many questions I wish I had asked.
We don’t think of our parents and grandparents as people exactly, especially when we’re young. I was really close to my grandma and she did tell me some of her stories. Like I know that she was engaged to somebody else when she met my grandpa and called off that engagement. I know from things my dad told me that her two older sisters were “a little nuts.” What does that mean? Cause we clearly have some mental illness in our family, illness that I have inherited and passed on to my children. But that wasn’t something we really talked about in depth.
Over the years I have struggled with believing in an after life. What comes next? Krista says it’s either heaven or nothing, and either way it will be fine. When my mom died, I liked to imagine her in heaven with my Grandma Marie. This is my dad’s mom, but despite the divorce and all that, my mom and grandma loved each other a lot. My grandma watched my mom grow up and adored her. I remember at my grandma’s funeral, my mom was part of the mass (doing a reading, I think) and her voice broke. My mom wasn’t a super emotional person, and it was at this moment I realized that my mom was in a lot of pain too, and that getting up there to speak aloud during this funeral mass was an act of courage. I had no idea that 5 years later we’d be in that same church saying goodbye to my mother.
Loss like this does not weaken over time. We do get to be pretty good at handling it, but it’s always there and some of us can be easily triggered by events in the world that make us remember the acute part of the pain. Losing my mom at age 53 changed me forever, but in some ways, it was for the better. I am very grateful to be approaching that age. I know it’s not a given that I continue living. I can think of a few people in my generation that have died in the past 5 years. There are no guarantees, and I try not to allow myself to swirl downward in a spiral of negativity over aging and all that it entails. I celebrate birthdays (mine, yours, everyone’s) with gusto. I’m working on being in the moment and doing things instead of staying home in my comfort zone.
The Mother’s Day ads are already running, and this is a fraught time of year for me. My mom’s death anniversary is April 1 (22 years this year). I kind of ignored the day this time around, but I felt a lot of sadness leading up to it as I always do. My dad is also gone now, which is just crazy and still sort of unbelievable to me. Are they all in heaven together? Did my parents forgive each other? Or is this just a fiction I created so I can cope? I don’t know. What I do know, now that I am in middle age, is that everything is not as black-and-white as I thought when I was younger. And truthfully, I don’t know everything — not from my mom’s or dad’s perspective. There are secrets and feelings they did not share which I will never know. That’s another part of getting older. Just getting comfortable with the things we do not know and learning to let go of them.
I wanted to mention that I binged a show called Life After Death with Tyler Henry, and I admit I am a sucker for psychic mediums like him. Amazing stories on that show if you’re into that stuff! What I noticed most of all is that all people want to hear from their dearly departed is that they are okay and that they are PROUD of and have ACCEPTANCE for those who are still living. That is it. I know I feel this way about my parents, but I was surprised at how universal that is. So I wanted to tell you, and remind myself, to make sure that people in your life know you accept them as they are and are proud of them. Especially your kids, if you have them! I never want my kids to wonder that about me, someday when I’m gone.
Sending love. xo
Cheese Holiday 