Who can really describe grief or put a label on it. Everyone experiences grief in their own fashion. You will find tons of books and articles on grief, and how you “should” go through the process – but it all sounds so trite when in the midst of mourning.
I've heard of so much loss recently. I was preparing to take my pup to the vet this morning when I was stopped in my tracks to learn of a credit colleague’s passing. Immediately you feel a loss in the pit of your stomach and then a spark from the interactions you shared, and the kindness he brought to the world. Another friend recently lost her 32-year-old son without warning from a stroke – my heart aches for her family. And another friend recently lost her husband to Covid, simply heartbreaking. Combined with the war in Urkaine – there's so much grief and sorrow.
And of course, there is my mother. The loss of your mother is devastating for she is your nurturer no matter your age. Mom left this earth after 95 years – a feat that many aspire to - and lived a long happy life. She was declining the past few years, but she tried to hide it, always proud of her tenacity.
During my last visit as all four sisters were in her room, gabbing away as sisters do, she looked at me and said, "You’re the baby, right?" I will always remember that. Yes, I’m the baby. Yes, I was the one that had precious time with mom after the others went to school. Doing Jack La Lane with her in the living room. I remember watching the news of the John F. Kennedy assassination and running to the bathroom to tell my mom. After everyone left for college, it was me and my parents for a couple years. Mom and I would frequent the antique stores looking for treasures, and I would help her at the Candle Shop where she worked. After my father’s passing, mom came to live with me in Hawaii and then with my sister in California to put her life back together. After I moved back to the mainland, we had numerous driving trips from Seattle to my sister’s house in California. She loved putzing in the car...although there are many horror stories of her trying to merge onto a freeway that we would prefer to forget!
While going through her things this past summer we found many treasures – among them my letters to her. Wow, I told her everything! Back in the day, you couldn’t afford to call long distance when living out of state, so letters were the way to go. What a lost art! In the letters you could see that, yes, I really was her baby. She saved every card, anything that had meaning or was sentimental to her – even the boxes from Cheryl’s cookies deliveries (luckily not the cookies!) But she saved them as a reminder that she was loved.
For me, grief took a different path this time around. When my father died, I was young and went right into helper mode for my family, and then just went on with my life. I didn’t really process the grief until I was hit head on with cancer myself. It was while reliving his days after chemo along with my own that I really allowed myself to fully grieve his passing.
With my mom, I started the grieving process as she grew more distant from the real world. When only a flicker of her old self showed through in a day – her old feisty self. She clung onto life for reasons we do not know, as her body and mind were ready to go. When she finally let go, I allowed myself to cry, just cry and feel the loss no matter how painful it was. To know that I can’t call her to say hi, or tell her the good, bad and ugly in life – the adventures and tragedies to come is heartbreaking.
I do remember with fondness the times we shared. She would come to Ohio for every special occasion and I would drag her around to explore all the parks and nature. Of course, she was always game – trekking around the woods with me! And who could forget her long road trip with my sister Jeanne to return our beloved dog Buddy after we settled into our house many years ago. She enjoyed sitting in the backyard, listening to the birds and watching the dogs play. You know, the simple things in life.
As we start a year without mom, I know the memories will continue to flood back with each holiday. None the more vibrant than those of St. Patrick’s Day. As I made my corned beef and cabbage, I thought of her. I so desperately wanted to send her a St. Patrick’s Day card, message, cookies, or post on Facebook - just like those letters years ago - but the connection is now gone. Now I look to the heavens, to the trees and the streams knowing that she is in a better place.
So, as I enter a year of grief I am reminded of the Irish blessing:
May the raindrops fall lightly on your brow. May the soft winds freshen your spirit. May the sunshine brighten your heart May the burdens of the day rest lightly upon you. And may God enfold you in the mantle of His love.
If you are interested in reading more about my mom’s life, I honed those letter writing skills into her tribute: https://www.tributearchive.com/obituaries/24101507/margaret-janet-patjens
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