Life Without Mother

Dear friend,

As I mentioned regarding the grief class I attended a few weeks ago, it was my first time in a grief-share setting. One of the introductory things we did on the first day was share our own names, who/what we are grieving, and when that loss occurred. Some shared more details as to the when/how, and even how many losses, than others. But, something I observed in many of the griefs shared were the qualifiers of the grief itself — especially regarding relationships with deceased loved ones.

For example, one young woman shared that she lost both grandmothers and that “they were like mothers” to her. Naturally, we accept such qualifiers as though they are necessary — and to some extent they are, to help someone understand the extent of the grief through the relationship of the loss, because it would be fair to say (as with this example), most of us would feel the grief of parental loss more acutely than that of our grandparents.

However, I wonder how much we feel we must justify our experience of loss with such qualifiers — that losing a close friend is all the more difficult because you don’t have siblings or family and they were all you had. That losing that particular grandparent is worse than losing your parents. That losing a pet is like losing a family member.

I spoke with my sister-in-law about this after that first class, noting my own qualifier in answer to the question of loss: “My mom died eight years ago, the day after my eighteenth birthday.” Although, for me the significance was less about justifying my grief to the others in the group than to remind myself the impact of that seemingly small qualifier on my experience of her death. To be willing to recognize the depth of that pain in my experience.

From anyone else even in my family, the qualifier doesn’t mean the same thing as it does to me. Not in any comparative value, but a comparative experience. It wasn’t my sisters or brother who lost our mother after their birthday — their eighteenth birthday, for that matter. (On the flip side, from my sisters’ experience, they can articulate the pain of not having her for their seventeenth birthday, while I cannot but express my sorrow over their lack.)

Qualifiers. They help us express the painful cuts of grief in our individual experience:

Relational qualifiers: who the person is to you, the nature of your relationship

Circumstantial qualifiers: the experience of the death event — whether you were there or not, when and how it happened, etc.

Developmental qualifiers: how old you were, how long ago the loss occurred, where you are in the grief process

I denied the impact of many of these qualifiers, thinking that to recognize them for what they were was to be “too dramatic” or overly sentimental, to make too big a deal out of a natural event (since 100% of people who are born die).

But, now I see the great benefit of acknowledging the difficulty of them for the sake of healing:

My mom died the day after my eighteenth birthday.

We were supposed to celebrate my birthday that weekend — instead, we prepared a funeral. She and I were supposed to go shopping for a purity ring — instead, I requested and received her wedding band. We were supposed to finish out my senior year with her at my last choir concert (the choir she’d helped build into a program as #1 parent supporter/Choir Booster Club President), at my last awards ceremony, and at my high school graduation. Instead, there was an empty chair and missing smile.

Now, every day of April is hit or miss with whether the waves are tsunamis or non-existent. (Though I believe it has progressed over the years in a greater number of calm days.) The week of my birthday (and days immediately following) are a hot mess of emotions. I never know if I’m going to feel happy or sad or somewhere in between. I think I’ve progressed in not feeling guilty regardless of which emotion I land on. (Praise the LORD for healing!)

And can I tell you, dear friend — writing those facts out does not hurt as it did even three months ago. I emphasize “facts” because I’m reminding myself of the reality of my circumstance, my story. And I now see how these facts, this reality of loss is my story of healing and of hope, of reconciliation and redemption!

My God is not through with me yet. He is breaking down the lies and the denials I’ve told myself through the years. Obstacles I put in my own path of healing. Obstacles I allowed others to put in my path. But, He is revealing them and is the Way over and through them!

With much hope of healing,
Hannah

(P.S. Attached is a video with a wild story of the LORD’s grace in giving back a sweet reminder of Mom and her faithfulness.)