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Time Heals All Wounds
Oddly enough, both my parents died in October. Ten days ago was the tenth anniversary of my father's death at the age of nearly 72.
Today is the 34th anniversary of my mother's death at the age of 47. At the time, I was thirteen and in the eighth grade, and now I am the age she was when she died.
I'd been dreading my 47th birthday for some time, always wondering if I was the one of the three children who'd drawn the "short straw" and who would die young as she did. Now that I've been 47 for nearly six months, that apprehension has eased to a great extent.
My mother lived two and a half months beyond her 47th birthday, and I've passed that mark already. I know that is not an entirely rational thing, but nevertheless, it's a common fear among those who have lost a parent at a young age. Of course, no one knows how long they're going to live, but at least I feel reasonably confident that it won't be this year.
Unlike my father's death, which is stil a raw, visceral thing to me, the pain over my mother's death has softened and faded through time. There is much to the old adage, "Time heals all wounds". Indeed, it's been so long since I've had a mother that the idea of having one now is an odd one. Though I remember my mother, she seems more like something I once saw in a movie, rather than someone who was an integral part of my everyday life. I must admit, however, that it took me many years to get to this point.
With my mother I grieve more for the fact that none of her grandchildren ever got to know her or she them, as her first two grandchildren arrived three years after her death.
If I lived near where my parents are buried, I'd have visited their grave today and left flowers. As it is, I've thought of her today and have wondered how it would have been had she still been alive now.
I still have both my parents, but I empathize with you.
October must be a melancholy month for you.
Hiya. My Mum's mother died at 56 and Mum said she dreaded getting to that
age as she genuinely thought she would die soon after even though her mum
had died from TB, due to the appalling conditions in which she had to live.
She passed away in 1954, my Mum having been born in 1932. I lost my Dad
in 1997 and the first year seemed to crawl by and now it's been nearly 8
and a half years. I've only been to the cemetery once, I find it too hard
to stand there knowing that 6 feet beneath me is a decomposing person.
It's at times like that when I really wish I had afterlife beliefs. You're
in my thoughts right now and for the rest of this month.
I find myself thinking of my Mom’s life as the years parallel my own. At 40
she had lost her sight and only has 12 years to live. I am 40 now and can’t
imagine how difficult it was for her. I know what you mean about it feeling
like a movie after all those years. I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t
remember her as much as I would like to. You are in my thoughts. I know the
pain of not having lost a Mother at an early age and hope you find peace.
