“Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time. It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.” — Leo Buscaglia
When my mother passed away at the age of 99, many people said to me, "99! God bless." I appreciated the sentiments Lord knows but I found no comfort in the loss of my mother at the age of 99. I found no comfort knowing that the quality of her life had been spiraling for over a decade. A person's decline is heart-breaking and their death becomes more of a relief but there...There again is the new found heartache. The relief is also the heartache.
My mother worked extremely hard for her family. Handmade clothes, sewn, knitted, crocheted were worn well into my teens and then I decided that there weren't "cool" anymore and begged her for Jordache jeans. There was always a home-cooked meal on the table at dinner. Nothing was ever processed unless I craved a "Ring Ding" in my lunch bag to go with the peanut butter sandwich on homemade bread. The beds were made. The clothes were washed, and hung up. There was always a multitude of magazines on the livingroom coffee table and books stored in the coat closet. Of course, I had my share of Mad magazines and comic books in my room as well. She kept up on her soap operas by ironing our pillow cases and bed sheets in front of the television.
As these last few weeks have passed, I keep asking myself as to whether there is a timetable for grief. As time has gone by, the answer I keep finding is that there is none when the loss you feel is for your parents. Your relationship with your parents, from the past, suddenly has no effect on the timetable either. Grief is just felt and now I realize that we should be grateful for our grief because we now understand that we are capable of feeling...Feeling our love, our anger, our frustration and our peace. Their expectations of us are no longer relevant to our maturity. We are left to look at ourselves in the mirror and finally learn how important it is to let go of the past.
Parenting is so difficult. You raise your children with the remnants for your own familial influences, swearing to yourself that you would raise your children differently and not make the same mistakes. That is an impossibility. Try as you might, certain influences come to the surface, not all but some, and your children will not forget them. I certainly did not. Let us also not forget the difficulties of living, and facing all of the issues that come with adulthood and yes, marriage. No one is removed from these difficulties no matter how blessed you my be in other people's eyes.
My mother leaves a legacy of demanding nothing but the best from her daughers. Often hard to please, well...sometimes...extremely hard to please but the legacy is there. We are college educated. We can certainly stand on our own two feet. She insisted on that. We can cook up a storm and that includes apple pie and cheesecake. My sisters are highly intelligent woman and phenomenal crafters. They sew, knit, crochet, embroider, quilt and weave to perfection. That all came from our mother. Although I can do these things, somewhat well at times, I am not my sisters. I am not my mother with respect to these skills. To my mother's fear, I was the performer. The "would be actress." I craved public approval at a very young age which is both an honor, a great joy and a curse at times. With grief, I have finally realized that the most important thing as we age is to find comfort with who we are as separate individuals independent from other's expectations but love them just the same...Although she did love to sing.
There is no timetable for grieving the loss of someone you loved. What we can do is grow from the grief and that is a much more plausible alternative than a timetable. I will never fully be my "Mother's daughter." My kitchen is massively unorganized. I don't iron well. There is always a ton of laundry to do. I do not iron our bed sheets. I have no children but I do teach children and when the behavior of my mother comes out in me...It is not fully appreciated. Sorry kids...I was born in a different time zone. Your grandparents will understand or maybe...Your great grandparents?
We are not immune from grief. We can not be protected from what life hands us as we age. What we can do is love one another and accept our individuality. No one wants to hear the advice, "Time heals all wounds." What we need to hear, what we want to hear, is, "You understand what the word "love" means with all of its conflict and joy." Life gives us both.
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