It’s been over a month since my mother died, memorialized at a lovely funeral and then laid to rest in a hand-crafted casket made by my brother. Many tears were shed, memories shared, belongings dispersed, and goodbyes articulated. I spent time with family I don’t normally see, as well as kicked around a few days solo exploring places, thoughts and feelings, many I had thought been abandoned years ago permanently. I was going through motions that I expected to be helpful in the process of dealing with my sorrow and sense of loss.
I have counseled many through grief during my career. Some have quickly found healing and acceptance. Many others have dealt with profound feelings of loss that have left them reeling for months and years as they try to find a nugget of peace and acceptance. I have realized that I am now walking in the shoes of many that I have attempted to help, those that have lost the one who gave them life and who they honored and respected and loved.
This has been perplexing to me. I wouldn’t have described the relationship with my mother as particularly close. We didn’t talk about feelings or motivations or even thoughts about struggles or difficulties. I am, admittedly, a very closed person and this was no different with her. We didn’t chat often, and once we’d exhausted the check in about kids, and wife, and where I was stationed and how I like my job and the weather, conversation quickly died. In fact, on visits, we could often sit for a full afternoon, speaking very few words, but just being together. I take full responsibility for this situation, and I don’t even know if it should have been different, but it was just the way it was.
Given these circumstances, my confusion over my current feelings about my life, and what’s left of it, is high. Even though we didn’t share deep things, my mom was my anchor, a constant I could always touch base with and know that no matter what I did, who I was or how things turned out she would support and love me. That is gone and with it a bit of the spark I used to have for life. Work has been difficult, relationships challenging. My normal easy-going demeanor is harder to access, and I look at my past and future, scratching my head with the questions arising about life decisions and if I made the right ones.
I never expected this change in my life to have such an effect. My grief leaves me wondering about the path I’ve walked. I would attribute this to the fact that the longest existing presence in my life, that could always be counted on for validation, is now gone, and in my belief system that absence is permanent, and that makes me very sad and has affected my current view of life and the world.
I hope that by acknowledging the sadness, the source of it, and what it is doing to my life, I can learn from the grief and become more resilient. At the very least I’d like to increase acceptance and peace. Perhaps I’ll be able to take a page from the playbook I’m sharing with you and once again find a way to change.