When you lose a parent, the person you have the longest history with, it feels like your childhood, upbringing, and identity go with them. You are left stripped, vulnerable and afraid.
Whether the relationship was defined as good or troublesome, the inexplicable bond that shaped you, for better or worse, has ended. There is no replacement for this loss. There is no measurement for the empty hole it leaves in the fabric of your life, past, present and future.
The grief process is a long, winding road full of potholes, roadblocks, steep cliffs, and muddy emotional ups and downs as sticky as quicksand.
You might associate your parent’s death with your own mortality, especially if you are the firstborn in your lineage. “Am I next to go?” is a common thought.
You may begin to think of death more often. This is natural, especially in this culture that avoids the topic of death as if thinking or talking about it is contagious.
Now death has a familiar and personal face to it, and it feels too close to home. The denial and avoidant cloud most of us stuff the thought of death into has now opened up and all of the fears, pain, and tears rush in, flooding you in a way that feels like you are drowning.
Along with a deep sadness, forms of regret and guilt will want to find a way into the process of grieving. “I wish I would have….” becomes a bitter pill while you are too weak to fight it off.
Honor your pain. Slow down. Reminisce as a way of honoring your loved one. Death is part of the package of life. We cannot have one without the other. They are two sides of the same coin. The beginning, the birth, is also an ending of one form to begin another. The ending, the death, is a beginning of leaving the physical form to enter another realm. This cycle of life is poorly defined, so we are left with loose hanging feelings that don’t have names. Tears will wash over the pain of loss, eventually lessening the blow. Find a friend to hold onto. Use the minutes of your life as a reminder that time is precious. Honor your parent’s life as a legacy of the imperfect, messy, lovely, funny, sad mess of a life lived to the best of their ability