With tears in my own eyes, this Grandma just heard of the death, minutes ago, of a long (we never say old) dear friend’s mother. She was the second parent to die.
In discussion of the death of our parents of long years, when we are ourselves are of the age of grandparents living nearly seven decades ourselves, the trauma and sadness is not any less. It is not less pain of loss knowing that the parent has lived a long life. It is not less pain of loss knowing that the parent was healthy until the end.
There are some additional realizations that come to the forefront.
Losing the second parent is the hardest. When the first parent dies, we are ministering to the surviving parent. We are preoccupied with easing the surviving parent’s transition to a life without a partner, assisting in arrangements and rearranging the life of the living parent of long years. Being there for the surviving parent means we cannot think only of our own loss, as we help the surviving parent with their greater trauma of surviving and being alone.
The death of either parent brings up thoughts and issues of the relationship one had with the parent. I heard that there is a self help video on Netfiix that tells us we are always going to search for a partner who resembles the person from whom we wanted love but did not give it to us. Our relationships with our own parents are complicated. It seems that there is much pain when we lose a parent with whom we had a good relationship. It seems that there is more pain when we had less of a relationship we wanted with the parent we lose. The old saying that we do not know what we have until we lose it may have some meaning here.
Just like losing the second parent is the hardest, it is also different when the loss is of the mother. Even if we think we are closer to our father and we love our father dearly, the love of a mother is visceral. It is on a subconscious level of the tie of the umbilical cord, the one who held us and fed us as an infant.
So, today, I try to console my long, dear friend who lost his second parent who was his mother. After long years, this Grandma has learned that remembering the loved one is the best medicine, hearing of the life and love of the parent and allowing the grieving Boomer the memories of a parent’s life lived long and well, with many loved ones who cared for her.
In our younger years, when a dear aunt, who was in her late seventies, lost her mother who was in her hundreds and lamented that she was an orphan, the pain was so deep, we wondered how she could feel that way at her age.
Now, this Boomer Grandma understands.
May our dear friend’s mother rest in peace and know she was loved.
With little joy,
Mema
Comments