And Then, There Were Three
Yesterday, last day of March, 26 days after my mother died, my father died. I knew he wouldn’t last long on this Earth without her. He had told me that he was staying alive to take care of her.
My dad was a man of great honor and he fulfilled his last mission. Six days after her funeral, with my eldest sister by his side, he died. And now, we are the original family, but of only three.
Three sisters, all grown in our 60’s but today I feel like an orphan. Like a child who has no home, as home had always been the two of them wherever we traveled.
We sisters are meeting up at Mom and Dad’s house later today. I feel sick, gut-wrenching agony over the thought of walking through the door knowing my parents will never do so again.
They belong together. There’s was one of those love stories for the ages as “they” say. They liked and loved each other for 64 years. They had their time apart for the harship Tours of Duty (Korea and Vietnam) and I’m sure life was not without its difficulties for them in addition to the hardship tours. But, they had made a commitment to one another and a stronger bond, I have never witnessed.
I am the wayward sister, the relationship nomad and yet, Dad loved me fiercely. He only told me “I Love You” these past couple of years. The more we said it, the easier it got, but I also knew because of that, the end was drawing near.
Numb again and in the gloaming of grief. Do not post here please about any “silver linings.” I don’t want to hear it. I am sad. Let me be sad. I read somewhere, that when we pass someone a tissue in their tears, we think we are helping them, but what we are perhaps doing is stopping their tears so that we feel better. Don’t “pass” me a tissue. Don’t send me your condolences. Tell me about a time when grief overtook you as it is for me now. Let us share in that depth of sadness instead of platitudes of “thoughts and prayers.” Thank you for reading and I look forward to your stories.
Oh, I am so sorry, Mary. I felt the same when my sister died (cancer) and every single time one of my dogs has had to be put down. It is a soul-consuming feeling, and there's nothing to be done but endure it. But how hard for you to have to go through it again so soon.
I read your newsletter aloud to my husband and after I finished he said, "Good for Mary. Sometimes we need to sit with our feelings and be allowed to feel badly." Brent lost both of his parents 18 years ago, only six months apart from one another. It was a very difficult time for him as he was going through a divorce as well. He, too, has told me he felt like an orphan. He is the eldest of his siblings; he has a younger brother and sister. We live in what many refer to as "a grief illiterate society". I think it is tragic. People are so uncomfortable when speaking to others when they have lost loved ones. This is foreign to me because of my personality and who I am. There is no time limit on grief and all people grieve differently. You take all the time you need, Mary. You have just lost both of your parents in such a brief period of time. Sending you love.