A friend that I hadn’t seen in over 20 years came to visit me here in Portland Oregon while on business. Her husband, one of my fathers best friends, died in 1994. She mentioned his passing last night then later mentioned her mothers passing, and I immediately recognized “that look”. The look is recognized by all who have lost a parent. In the beginning, we are completely dependent upon our moms. As time goes by this lessens. Eventually we become independent, but we are never truly independent of her. There is an invisible connection, and when she dies, one realizes what that connection was. Your mother is your first true love and she is the foundation of your sense of security. When she dies, your foundation becomes unstable for a bit. It doesn’t matter if you are a married adult with several kids earning 200k per year. I lived in South West Florida for 17 years. Some of my best friends were senior citizens who shared their wisdom. One of the things I learned was even an 80 year old woman can be reduced to feeling like an abandoned little girl when her mother dies at the age of 100.

My son was born one year and 30 days after my mothers death. Eight days after my sons birth we had his Brit Milah, and two weeks later his naming ceremony. Grandparents, great aunts and uncles flew in from New York and Arizona to meet the newest family member. Over 60 guests shared our blessed event. Later that evening my husband said, ” Today you were surrounded with all the love this world has to offer, and yet I could tell you were the loneliest person there today.” What I was feeling was motherless. That feeling of motherless, mixed with loneliness, dissipated with time. Two years later I woke up earlier than usual. We were expecting our daughter, and a c-section was scheduled. I was excited about her arrival. While I was preparing to leave from the hospital I began crying for my mother. Special occasions, milestones, holidays, are bitter sweet, but with time it does get easier.

Never compare your loss with another.

My mother died at the age of 42 of Hodgkin’s disease. It is a cancer of the lymphatic system. My mother was diagnosed when my sister was six months old. The doctors told us she had five years to live. She lived almost 12. When my mother died all I could think of was the well being of my 11 year old sister. I ignored my grief for some time. I told myself my cousin’s mother died when she was only three months old. I told myself I had my mother in my life for 24 years while others had considerably less. I found all the reasoning in the world did not diminish my loss. I had to confront the fact that the most important woman in my life was not going to be a part of my life anymore. That was devastating. As years passed I began to realize the way I was feeling was perfectly natural. If I didn’t love my mother, and if her and I never bonded, then I wouldn’t have shed a tear. All the tears I have shed are a product of the years of joy and happiness, love and devotion a mother and daughter have shared, and if I had to pay for all those things with tears, then she was worth it.

As each year passed, the sadness became less and less. I have many cherished memories of her. Now when I reflect upon my life with her, I can smile.