Okay, My Mother Died October 10 2005

her birthday is 5/29- Memorial Day this year

I'm a little, no a lot still grieving about the loss of her.

She died of Ovarian Cancer after 5+ years of having it.

She left my Dad, my sister, and me.

My father and my sister live 800+ miles away in the same state.

I have my own family now and I try to stay caught up in the joy that brings.

I am a liberal Christian.

My mother was a self-declared atheist when she died. I tend to think her atheism was declared out of anger she had toward relgion in her life. But I respect it no matter what.

I'm not worried that she "isn't going to heaven" or anything like that, I just don't believe that way.

I guess I'm just sad and posting here because it is hard to talk about it with others.

I mean this is America, she died 7 months ago, I "should" be over it by now.

Thanks

with of the eventuality of it all. Thank God that she is not suffering anymore, take comfort in that.

That view, get over it (whatever, hardship is inserted), is in my opinion, the most destructive force permeating the American Society today. It's like, just pretend, anything bad didn't happen.

I have traveled outside of the US, not substantially, but fairly more than the typical citizen. The rest of the world deals with death and loss so differently than we do. They learn to accept it not fear it. It was really strange to see elaborate skeletons, cross and bones, etc., in Churches, museums, etc.. I was really uncomfortable about it, until, I spoke to natives about it.

In Europe and heavily European colonized areas, death is thought to be accepted, not feared. In Mexico, they celebrate each day, as a day they cheated death.

You should mourn, and mourn as long as it takes for YOU, to get through this tough time. Our parents are probably the most precious thing in our lives, who else knew you better on this earth?

When you long to hear that voice, a hug, words of encouragement, the smiles, don't stop there, remember that voice, the hugs, the words of encouragement, and the smiles and that overwhelming love you blessed to receive.

I hope that you find comfort and peace in these trying hours.

today and tomorrow are tough days

and the 30th is hard for my Dad too since it is their anniversary, they had their 50th before she died, it would be 51 this year.

My mother died July 27, 2005, of glioblastoma--a brain tumor. She hadn't been sick all that long, 7 months. She was diagnosed 3 days after I moved here (we noticed her confusion while she was helping me pack), so I felt lost without a good support network here. She and my dad "celebrated" their 50th anniversary in the hospital, while she was recovering from brain surgery. She was very confused at that time, due to swelling of the brain after the surgery. It's not clear she even knew it was their anniversary, though she smiled and thanked my dad for the two dozen red roses he brought her. This past December would have been my folks' 51st.

My grandmother, with whom I was very close (we lived near each other at my first call), died on Memorial Day, 1990, after a day of shopping with her sister. I visited my grandmother's grave today, since I'm close enough once again.

I know I won't be "over" my mother's death any time soon, since I sat at my grandparents' grave and softly cried this afternoon. They've been gone much longer than my mother, but I still miss them--especially my grandmother.

I intend to cry whenever I need to. That may mean I'm still crying about my mother's death 15 years later, as I do with my grandmother. That's okay.

My faith tradition emphasizes giving thanks, even in the midst of grief. So, I always offer a prayer of thanksgiving when I'm feeling the grief of these losses. After all, I've been fortunate enough to have parents and grandparents who were great sources of strength and comfort, who taught me important lessons, who loved me. There are those who have not had such gifts.

So, I cry, and I say "thanks", and I sometimes shake my fist that I no longer have these great people in my life.

And I wonder whether we will indeed meet again. Whether we do or not, I know I've been blessed.

I hope you can find comfort. But, as I always tell my parishioners....cry when you need to.

Grace and peace

Critters

edited for typos

one is never fully "over it".

Embrace the grief; it's the only path through it.

My mom died five years ago next month, and while most times I'm at peace with it, the grief shows up.

After my dad died, too, it was a good year or more before I felt fully like me again. That was 12 years ago, and even though I am, I would say, truly "over" it, I have my moments when the longing for his presence appears and I am momentarily saddened that he isn't here any more.

(it's hard to tell what the process was with Mom because my office was destroyed by terrorists three months later, so my grief process had a rather unusual trajectory; but this does raise one important fact: every person will go through grief in their own unique way, and one should never feel that there is a specific pattern that one must fall into; it's different with every person, and different for every death - find your healing in YOUR way, not in someone else's way).

So don't beat yourself up - dive into the grief, dance with it, enjoy it, hate it... go through it all. And when you do, you will have truly gotten to the other side, instead of spending the rest of your life pretending that you are "okay", which is the state that far too many people find themselves in, I believe.

And condolences to you on your mom's death.

of my parents wedding over the next two days and I've just been feeling down.

Of course I use work to not think about things too, and I'm off work so I think.

It's hard to lose your mom. :hug::hug::hug:

Please feel free to visit the Bereavment group here on DU. Those folks (and the ones here, too) have been wonderful in helping me through these past few months.

You and your family will be in my prayers.

I may visit. Two close friends--one a former "cubicle partner"--died the same weekend a few weeks ago. On top of my mom's death, leaving a call I loved, well, I sometimes really feel it all.

Thanks.

We don't get a lot of traffic there, but those who show up are very loving and understanding. We all have something in common, and take turns leaning on one another. :hug:

I lost my mother in April 1996. 4 months to the day after I lost my father in December 1995. Even though its now been (amazingly) 10 years since they both died, I still have times where I struggle with depression and a lot of sadness and anger. They died in their early 60's, from depression and alcoholism. Both suffered sudden heart attacks brought on by their anger and drink. It wasn't some disease that was out of their control, or anything plausible like that. My father literally didn't want to be here anymore, and when he died, my mother grieved herself to death, drinking unconscionable amounts of alcohol and not eating for the last 3 weeks of her life. And yet, at the time, I wasn't actually aware of how deep their pain was, and how close the end was. When they passed away, I wasn't able to prepare myself in any way, for their deaths. The suddenness of it all has brought me a lot of pain.

In one way, the 'gift' of your mother's disease, was that it gave you the acknowledgement that there was a finite amount of time left with her, and that you should make the most of it. Bizarre as that may sound, the gift of that knowledge can be helpful. Of course, it doesn't lessen the pain that dealing with her absence brings. But it does help prepare you for the inevitable.

I try to steer clear of those that say we 'should' be over it in a certain amount of time. I can't believe people who say these things, have ever lost someone they truly loved. There are no 'shoulds' when you are grieving. It just takes as long as it takes; and if it takes the rest of your life- then so be it.

You are blessed in that you have a family that is there for you and brings you joy. However, since it wasn't 'their' mother that passed away, sometimes you can feel very alone in your grief. I know from reading the threads of others who have posted here on your thread, that mostly, we have all lost our mothers, and truly understand your pain. You are always welcome to PM me.

It is hard to talk about how sad you feel, and the 'aloneness' in the world that you feel. Others, especially those who haven't lost a parent, really don't understand. More importantly, they usually don't want to hear the depth of your hurt and sadness. It makes them uncomfortable, and they don't know what to say to comfort you. I think they usually do want to comfort you, but it is in a way that makes it clear, 'Keep this conversation short'. Often times, we just need to have someone who's a sounding board, who understands. There are many of us here, who truly understand, and want to help.

Please know that you and your family will be in my prayers. My heart goes out to you, and I wish I could wrap my arms around you and give you lots of these: :hug: :cry: :hug:

I appreciate your kind words

I do feel alone in a lot of ways.

I was really close to my mother during her illness. Although we weren't close geographically, we talked regularly. Sometimes I regret now, that I would wish that she hadn't called me as I was doing something else. But what I wouldn't give now to be able to pick up the phone and hear her voice.

Thanks

While they are alive, we somehow feel safe in the world. They are always there to pick us up when we fail or fall, and love us, and listen to us when all is right with the world. Let's face it, even your spouse will not listen and cheer you on like your mother would, right? Their presence in our lives is like this bastion of safety from THE WORLD. Once they are gone, we are left feeling rather alone, with no safety net, as it were, from THE WORLD. Its very scary. And I think that's part of the reason, when our parents die, that it is so traumatic. We are left to face THE WORLD all by ourselves.

We've all 'been there/done that' with our parents-- either not answering the phone when they called, or speaking to them, and rushing the conversation, to get to what's "really important" (obviously, something other than talking to your mother!). That's life, and we are all guilty of it. Crazy as it sounds, when my mother died (10 years ago), I kept the answering machine tape of her voice! (that was back before digital recordings). It is the only recording I have of her voice. And, do you know, since I kept that tape, I haven't listened to it even once? It is just too painful for me. BUT, (and many people will think I'm nuts) I talk to her, vocally, as if she were around me! Not all the time, but there's been some strange occurrences around my house, that make me think she's not too far away! Now that may seem funny, but seriously, I have a feeling in my spirit, that she is close to me. And I truly believe that she hears me. Its not that I am praying to her, don't get me wrong, but I talk to her, and wonder what she would think about different situations. Also, to reinforce this, her cremains were buried in another city, where I was living at the time. I since married, and moved to where my husband was living. While I was living in the previous city, I only visited her grave once or twice. And since moving here, I haven't felt any 'distance' from her being buried in the former city. I think that stems from knowing her spirit is near me. And that comforts me.

I will still, on occasion, smell her fragrance somewhere, and it will bring back vivid memories of my mother. I held onto her clothes for a good, long time after she passed, and would go into her closet, and just surround myself with her clothes, so I could smell her, and be close to her. I have letters from her, and it brings me joy to see her handwriting.

We all have regrets about what we would say now, and what we should have said then, but we can't change that. I really believe that your mother now knows all that about you, and it doesn't matter. She knows what you would say to her. She knows how much you love her now, and loved her then. It sounds like she derived a great deal of love and strength from your conversations together. Particularly since you two spoke so frequently! What a wonderful gift you have from her- the memory of all those wonderful chats you shared. Those will be with you forever. I'm sure your mother's spirit still surrounds you with her love. Something like that, we can never lose.

While the pain right now, is so new and deep, it will get better. But its in baby steps, and you shouldn't feel the need or any pressure to 'hurry up' your grief process. Its something you need to do for yourself. You are healing your spirit, and mind and body. Your whole system has undergone a tremendous shock and needs to adjust.

I want to reassure you that the Lord is there with you, every step of the way. Did you know that He keeps every tear we shed in a bottle? (Psalms 56:8 "Thou has taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Thy bottle...) Each tear you shed, is that precious to Him, just as YOU are precious to Him. Psalms 126:5-6 tells us, 'Those who sow in tears shall reap with joyful shouting. He who goes to and fro weeping, carrying his bag of seed, Shall indeed come again with a shout of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.' Your tears WILL be replaced with joy. That promise is from God Himself!! And one day, because of your sorrow, your heart will be understanding and tender to help someone else who is struggling. There is a reason for everything (I can't say I understand God's ways all the time, but I do trust Him!), and one day you will have joy overflowing, in all your dark places. Your heart and spirit will be healed.

In His love....
:hug:

That is quite a lot to think about

I agree that I shouldn't and WON'T let people hurry me in my grief.

I have a letter that my Mom wrote me when she could still write that was given to me after she died by my Dad. It is hard to read.

We have a tape of her reading books for my son.

We have videotapes of her and just thinking about it I can hear her voice.

Thanks

so I sympathize. But she was very elderly and her death was a relief.

Who says you should be over it by now? You won't ever "get over" it.

But remember, your love for her, what she was for you, will never ever die. Nobody really can take your mother away from you. She made you what you are.

that she made me who I am. I'm often told that I look like her (and I REALLY do!), and family members tell me my handwriting is like hers. We felt the same about so many things. I find myself at a store and I'll think "Mom would like that dress"... or those earrings, or that book. And I realize that that really means that I like it. I think I learned my esthetic values from her. She is so much a part of me! I can't tell you how often I think "I need to tell Ma about this", only to remember that I can't. And then I grieve a little.

The death of our parents is quite possibly the hardest thing we ever do, barring the death of our own children. These are the events that knock us on our asses and turn our worlds upside down. There are too many emotions associated with the parent/child relationship to make it a loss that you resolve in just a few months' time, yes even if you are an adult.

And virtually everything in our culture works against that grief. We don't acknowledge it here. When we do, it's minimal, at best. You're never supposed to be down, or frightened or angry, or any of those things. If you are, well-meaning family, friends, and colleagues wonder why you don't bounce back in a hurry. They long to see, and want to be reassured by, the pretragedy you, not the grieving, angst-ridden, morose you.

"Laugh and the whole world laughs with you. Cry and you cry alone." I think that line was meant to be a funny one-off. It's more than funny. It's tragically funny because it's true. In the US, most people run away from the grief of others. I can't tell you the number of times someone that I considered a close friend, who was well-known to me and the people I lost, would ask "What's wrong?" only to think of something better to do when I tried to respond and quickly move off. They didn't want to know after all. It's the conversational equivalent of terrible sex. They build you up and then, nothing. I learned then, to stop expecting that people would be very interested in anything I had to say on that subject. They merely wanted me to continue to ask about them, their families, ..... you know the usual.

The only way to deal with the grief is to live with it. Let it become your constant companion for a while. Like Rabrrrrrr says, welcome it into your heart and fully feel that loss. You might even feel it physically. In the deepest throes of my own grief, I remember feeling as if someone was stabbing me in the gut repeatedly. And my chest constricted painfully. It felt as if someone was constantly squeezing the life out of me. I was often perversely amused by the thought that if I died violently, say in a car crash or as a murder victim, it couldn't have been any more painful than what I was experiencing. And I realized with absolute clarity *why* people do drugs. Though I never did, I can see clearly the temptation to want to relieve that much pain.

Morbid? Macabre? Perverse? Perhaps. Necessary? You bet.

And only you can say when you have spent enough time with those feelings. There is no timetable for grief. You're the expert on you. Not your family, not your spouse, not your colleagues, not your friends, as well-meaning as they all are. Gradually, over time, I found that I didn't "get over it," (God! How I HATE that phrase!!) as so many in our society want you to do. But I found I could come to terms with my grief, and live with it in a way that let me function in the world once more. One of the ways I did that, which is quite typical, is I set my life on a completely different trajectory.

Today I still think about my dad (d. New Year's 1995) and mom (d. July 1996) and I still miss them terribly. There's still that hole that will always be there. But I am able to be present for the people who are here with me now.

edit: It's not It