My Dear Friend,
I have to say I really enjoyed our conversation the other day. It was a much needed ray of sunshine in my day. I love how we can simply fall back into easy conversation like months have not passed since we spoke last. It’s because of that comfortable, familiar relationship style we possess that I feel confident I can share these words with you now. About this.
As we spoke last week about this and that, ridiculous humor interspersed through our dialogue as only we could get away with, you mentioned your parents. I just love them by the way. Always have. Anyway, I noticed you mentioned you hadn’t seen them since before Thanksgiving. You went on to say, “We just don’t really talk anymore.”
I can’t explain to you the shiver that shot across me then, like a spear of ice stabbing into my center. I get it though. I’ve been there. I was you.
I remember being busy with life, busy with my career, education, spouse, and friends. I was busy with my activities and interests and all those other things that ranked as “most important” in my rushed life all about me.
When we spoke last week and you said those words I remember my reply. I simply said, “When they’re gone, they’re gone. It sucks.”
You immediately began to apologize and that’s not what I wanted. It wasn’t my plan to remind you that I’m the girl with the dead mom, the woman whose mother passed before her time. I wasn’t looking for sympathy, and I wasn’t intending to make you feel guilty. Your pity over my loss will benefit neither you nor me.
I didn’t want your apology. What I wanted was for you to see. While I would never wish my grief upon you (it’s much too raw), I would love to pick you up out of your two parent circumstances and transport you into my life, even if only for a day. In that day I know you would see, you would see what I was trying to impart in our talk last week. I didn’t go any further at the time because I knew you wouldn’t understand, couldn’t understand, couldn’t fathom what it’s like when a parent is finally gone. Forever from this earth.
If I could open your mind and place you in my shoes, would you see?
Would you see what it’s like to have great news, wonderful news, news you are busting at the seams to share, but as you pick up your phone to call you’re reminded for the thousandth time that she’s not there?
What of pain, disappointment, or shame? When you crave that shoulder to cry on, the bended ear that never heard fault in you, only praise, and that moment of consoling will not be had; will you then see? Will you see the pain of loss for that you took for granted?
It’s the sting of simple things that bombard you unaware, like Mother’s Day, seeing people’s happy posts or blogs about their mom on social media and feeling left out, or when an acquaintance talks about her mom and her kids, how she couldn’t do it without her, and you want to say, “yes, it’s so hard.” But you don’t. You keep silent.
What about your wedding day? The birth of your first child? That moment your career finally starts taking the path of your wildest dreams? What if your biggest fan of your whole life couldn’t share the joy, wrapping their arms of love and pride around your body making you feel just like a kid again?
Again, don’t misunderstand my friend. Don’t, I repeat, do not feel sorry for me. I only want you to have what I never had, the opportunity to act before it’s too late, the opportunity to take advantage of the time you have left. I don’t want you to have regret.
Do you know what I would say to her if I even had a day?! So much!
I would say, I’m sorry Momma. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I always thought you were wrong. I know sometimes maybe you were, but so was I! I’m sorry I didn’t spend more time with you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I love you enough, like 100 times a day. I do Mom. I love you and miss you. So much. So much it hurts my insides, the way they ache I fear I’ll crack in half. So then I have to stop thinking about you. And I’m sorry for that too.
My friend, I don’t want you crying out apologies to the sky. I don’t want you to wish you could have a do-over, just one more day to right all the many things you did wrong.
I want you to take your child to your parent’s house right now. I won’t even go there with how I wish I could do the same, and let my daughters meet their Grandmother and hear her musical laughter. That’s besides the point.
For you the point is your child. Not just your relationship with your parents, but what it is doing in your son’s heart. He is not saying much, but he is watching and learning. He is learning what a relationship with parents is supposed to be when you get all grown up.
You might regret this example in say twenty years.
I guess it is what I originally said though. When they’re gone, they’re gone. And it sucks.
Don’t waste what time you have left. Reevaluate your priorities. Do you have grievances, grudges, or misunderstandings? Well, get over it. Forgive, forget, and move on. I’m quite certain they have extended you the same courtesy once or twice in your thirty-five plus years.
I love you my friend, and that is the only reason I would share this with you now. I don’t want to see you hurting later. When you do lose a parent, it will be hard enough. Don’t let it be worse than it has to be.
Thanks for hanging in with my unsolicited advice.
Your Friend Always and Forever,
Brie
I did not feel like I could publish this post until I confirmed that it is my faith in Jesus Christ alone that carries me through my grief. The knowledge that I will see my mother again one day in Heaven somehow soothes the loss for me. But until that time, I honestly do miss her. And that’s what this post is about.
Tabitha Bobo says
Brie,
You had me in tears reading this. I so feel the pain and try so hard to get the younger generation in my family to understand we can’t go back once it’s to late. Sadly, it often falls on deaf ears. There is so much I wish I could take back…. Redo…. But its to late.
I too look forward to that day in heaven when I can pour my heart out to them once again. To let them know how great they were. And how much I so desperately missed them.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much for commenting. I know you of all people can understand, and the loss is doubled for you. God bless you my friend.
Teri says
Brie: called my mom today and didn’t roll my eyes at everything she said! Thanks!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Haha! Glad I could help. Thanks.
Dana says
It’s the middle of the night as I’m a night shifter even when I’m off, but I shot mine a quick text. 😉 I talk with her every day on my way to & from work. Thanks so much for your wonderful insight, Brie. Hugs!!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thanks for sharing this! Glad my blog touched you personally. Thanks for reading. Stop by again some time.
Chris Kramer says
I feel your pain. My mom passed away last year on April 7th. The anniversary is coming up and I’ve found myself thinking about her a lot lately, since it’s at this time last year that she got so sick with the pneumonia that would eventually take her away from us. She was 67 and I was fortunate enough to have a great relationship with her. I never knew my dad since he died when I was 20 months old. So I’m an orphan now, and missing Mom every day. Thank you for sharing.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
I’m so sorry for your loss. It is so difficult to lose a mother. My mom too had a chronic condition so I often take a measure of comfort in knowing she is now without pain. I miss her dearly though as I know you do your own mom. A heavenly reunion eases my grief, but not my desire to talk to her at this very minute. I will keep you in my prayers as the anniversary of your loss approaches, and at all times when the grief seems extra tough to bear. May God cover you with peace.
KT says
I am sorry about your loss, and I am so thankful for your words. I am daughter of a lovely woman who by the time she was 20 years old, lost both of her parents. We have talked on many occasions how losing one’s parent(s) can change you; she would agree with your letter.
Always tell each other that you love each other. Even when you are angry with each other (especially when you are angry with each other). Call and spend time your parents, grandparents, or who ever fills this role in your life. You will not regret it.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you so much for commenting and sharing your personal story!
lina says
I understand u very much . But i have another experience with my mum . It is very bad , but she is now alive . For u is good u have great momory . it is a gift . it is hard everyday go forgiveness path
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Thank you for commenting. I’m glad you did. You see, there are many things this letter does not say. It does not include alcoholism, battles with mental illness, or terribly harsh words that were said and sadly still remain in my memory. I harbored hate for a time, but then I chose the path of forgiveness. Now that she’s gone, especially, I’m glad I did. My grief would be harder for me if I hadn’t. Despite mistakes and faults, I always knew she loved me. I have my own faults to work on daily and try to learn from my interactions with others. I pray that your situation can improve. I do not know the specifics but I pray for you still. God can heal all wounds.
WDO says
It was as if I wrote this myself. I lost my mom very suddenly last week. What I wouldn’t give for just one day to be able to tell her I love her and that I’m sorry if I ever made her felt unloved. If I could do it all over again, I would do it differently. But I can’t, because as you say “once they’re gone, they’re gone. And it sucks.” Your letter put into words everything I have been feeling the last 10 days. Thank you.
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
I’m so glad this post found you at this time. Thank you for commenting and sharing with me. I’m praying for you right now.