Grief is not something that you can just “get over.” It’s not something that you can get around, but something you learn to grow around. You learn how to reshape your life in a new way, in which life goes on, but the grief always remains.
I have been losing my Mom to late stages of dementia. Her condition has been progressing for years, and a few years ago, she had to move into an assisted living nursing home for 24/7 professional care. I believe that she can still feel me, can still feel who I am, but she has rationally forgotten who I am for a couple of years now.
I feel that she’s at the phase now where I can’t take photos of her because it’s just clearly not her anymore. And when I look back, early 2024, or even 2023, was really the last time that we could take selfies together. For me, it’s a big deal because photography is really important to me, and I love to document everything. Even looking at photos from 2020 forward, when you can tell that she is changing, I can still look back on these pics and cherish our time together. And now, this is yet another part of her that I am losing. This disease is like grief in slow motion.
The thing is, I am no longer apologetic over my grief. When everything first started happening, and people would ask me about it, I would sort of brush it off or make light of it. They’d ask, “are you okay?” And I would tell them that it’s fine. They’d say, “how are you doing?” And I’d say, I’m doing alright. I used to feel like I had to make others feel comfortable in the midst of my devastation.
That was me not fully feeling my feelings. That was me thinking that grief is not socially acceptable, and so I have to hide it. To help myself cope, I’d try to think about “negative aspects” of Mom. You know, nobody’s perfect, so I would dwell on the things that made her imperfect. I was lying to myself, making up silver linings, forcing toxic positivity.
I didn’t really cry. And when I did cry, I’d tell myself that I was crying about something else, not her. I kept myself distracted. I avoided sitting with my feelings and just accepting them. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t that bad.
It’s different now. When someone asks me if it’s hard to lose a parent, if it’s hard to watch them go through dementia, if it’s hard to deal with this loss, I’m not going to sugarcoat it. I’m not going to apologize for my grief. I will be honest and tell them that it’s difficult. And if that answer makes them uncomfortable, then so be it.
I have a close friend who lost her father a couple of years ago. As time goes by, she cries over him, she goes through old photos of him and posts them online, she confides in others about her pain. And yet, she’s had people in her life tell her that it’s time to move on. She’s had people make remarks such as, “it’s been X amount of years” or “you need to move forward” or “you shouldn’t be so sad.” And these comments are always coming from people who have never lost a parent, or never experienced true grief.
Ten years from now, this pain will not be gone. Twenty years from now, this pain will not be gone. Fifty years from now, this pain will not be gone. In fact, it may get worse, but it surely will not go away. I’ll get married, look around, and won’t see her. I’ll have my first baby, and she will never hold him or her. My kids will grow up and never know the comfort of her hugs.
I’m allowed to be upset about losing my mom. I give myself permission to cry over her. When I’m missing her, I’m going to let myself miss her. Never again, will I attempt to cover up my pain, or push aside my grief for the comfort of anybody else. I don’t know why some people do not allow others to grieve. Maybe they just don’t want to believe that life could be so unfair.
I have a lot of love in my life, a lot of people who support me, and a lot of positive aspects going on. Yet all of the beautiful things in my life can never take away the grief I have for my mother. That’s a statement that a lot of people don’t want to hear — and I don’t care. This is my grief. And I’m not just going to get over it.








Leave a reply to thebigbuddy Cancel reply