When I was 16 my father passed away. I was 55 when my Mom died. These two seminal life passages were so very different for me. What was the difference between Then and Now?
Loosing my Dad at such an early age left me filled with questions...how different would my life be, would my self-confidence and esteem issues be what they are? At 16, my response to his death was on such a deep level, I did not have the emotional depth to really understand it. My relationship with my mom became contentious. She was left a window at 45 with 3 children to finish raising. I was her youngest child, a teenage daughter who was defiant, with more than a little anger, lost and lashing out.. Mothers and daughters...it's a complex relationship under the best of circumstance.
In my adult life, her home was my haven, the place I returned to time after time. Her basement held boxes from each of the many moves in my life. I always knew I had a home with her. So when it became clear she could no longer live by herself, I moved her into my house. For the last 4 years of her life, she lived with me.
It created hardships, but brought far more joy. I slowed my life down for her. Parkinson's and dementia was slowly taking away her physical self, but her spirit never faltered.
Unexpectedly, Mom feel gravely ill. Per her directives, we began hospice care at home. What a remarkable gift this was from her. My sister stayed with me for the 3 weeks prior to Mom's passing. I had never spent that much time with my sister and it created an even stronger bond between us. 24/7 just us, no husband or kids, no work, just Mom, my sister and me. It gave us time together in a way that would never have happened had Mom not wanted hospice.
To be with the person who gave you life at the moment they pass to the next realm is remarkably life changing. As my sister and I each held a hand, Mom slipped away surrounded by her photos, her music and her two daughters. It was sad, but so beautiful to experience.
It is only now, one year later that I realize the different experiences I have had with my parents' deaths. The teenager is still struggling to understand what happened while the adult woman is honored to have been allowed to wittness such an intimate time in one's life. Through the experience of my mother's death I am now able to ask the questions and begin to let go of that angry, scared child who lost trust and felt deserted by her father. My mother gave me that gift by allowing me to help her die. It is the greatest gift of all and one I am eternally grateful for.
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