Category: mom

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38 Years Without Mom

My mom died of pancreatic cancer in 1983.

I’ve always felt like losing my mom when I was 13 was a punishment. I didn’t understand why something like that would happen. And to be honest, at 13 years old, I didn’t know how to grieve losing my mom.

Then complicated grief arises as I experience different seasons of life without her, or milestones that make me miss her in a new way. Like when I became a mom. That made me realize how much I really missed having that relationship for myself. I didn’t fully understand how much my mom loved me until I became a mom.

With that came putting myself in mom’s shoes, and how she knew she was dying from cancer. How horrific that must have been for her. To know that she was leaving 2 teenage daughters behind. I can’t begin to understand the anguish she must have experienced. Not only did she have to contemplate her own life ending, but she also experienced anticipatory grief – thinking about the effect of her absence on her girls. That’s a heavy burden.

Mother’s Day is bittersweet for me. I am so grateful for my own family and they do an amazing job of honoring me. But I miss my mom. I have a mom-sized hole, which changes in size as life ebbs and flows, but is always there.  I have prolonged grief. It will be 38 years in June. Many people don’t understand how you can still be mourning after 38 years, but I can. And I am.

I briefly mentioned 3 different types of grief in this blog. Complicated, anticipatory and prolonged. There are other types of grief as well. My point in doing this is to bring attention to the many sides of grief. There is no right way to grieve. I don’t believe you get over grief. But we can learn to live with it, and if it’s going to last forever, finding ways to share your journey and stories with others can offer support and validation to what you are feeling.

With Mother’s Day approaching, I’m pleased to share 2 ways that may help:

  1. A free, personalized Mother’s Day postcard. Sign up here by the end of April, and (hopefully) the card will reach you by Mother’s Day.

  2. Virtual Daughters Without Moms Mother’s Day Circle
    Join us to spend an hour together in anticipation of Mother’s Day. We will share stories, pictures and find meaning together as Daughters Without Moms.

Each of the 4 hosts will share on their own personal aspect of being a DWOM. We will then have a short breakout session to foster a time of personal connection.

We will be sharing photos of our moms, creating a DWOM Recipe Book and a DWOM Mother’s Day playlist!

Follow this link to register. It’s free!

If you have any questions or cannot access the registration form, please email me at daughterswithoutmoms@gmail.com.

As I often say, I’m sorry that you are a part of the DWOM Club. But you are not alone.

With love, Beth

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Just a Spoonful of Sugar

Note: This blog is portions of a blog I wrote in 2014. It’s interesting to look back at my thoughts on grief and pain. My beliefs haven’t changed! But I sure do miss having Amy here to share the journey with.

I have a soft spot for girly movies. OK, you’re right, I am a girl! And while I also do love a movie that makes me laugh out loud, every once in a while I like to snuggle up with some tissues and a good tear-jerker!

Surprisingly, Saving Mr. Banks, Disney’s movie about the production of the movie Mary Poppins, turned out to be one of these tear-jerker’s for me. My motivation to watch the movie was my interest in learning more about Walt Disney himself, and I wasn’t expecting to become emotionally involved.

P.L. Travers is the author of Mary Poppins. As Walt Disney attempts to gain the movie rights to the book, you learn of the heart-wrenching loss and trauma Travers experienced as a child. Her father is a fun-loving alcoholic who has a hard time dealing with the real world, and eventually, he dies. This sends Travers’ mother, who already suffered from depression, into a suicidal state. Along the way, Travers’ saves her mother from a suicide attempt.

These experiences resonated with me personally. As a child I experienced the fall-out of my parents’ relationship, resulting in separation and divorce. Then my mom died of pancreatic cancer when I was 13. The similar portrayal of a parent suffering and the experience for the child brought back so many memories.

As an adult, I often reflect back on the grief and pain, and how its impact on my life has changed over the years. I find great comfort in my only sibling, my sister, as my companion in grief. Even though we are only 3 years apart in age, our memories and experiences are so different! I also feel a strong bond with other women who lost their moms at a young age. The loss of a loved one results in a myriad of other emotions tied to the loss – regret, guilt, anger, fear, sadness. They create a sense of loneliness that can only be shared and understood by others who have experienced the same pain.

How your family chooses to grieve loss depends on individual personalities and your family’s culture. Being open, honest, and vulnerable about your feelings can help alleviate the loneliness experienced during these times. Being with others who have experienced the same kind of feelings can also help. They can provide a safe environment for sharing, learning, and growing.

As Mary Poppins says, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down”, but you may need more than that. Please send me an email if there is a way I can be your grief advocate, offering support on your grief journey. You are not alone!

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Left Behind

The problem with opening your heart is that you are then also open to hurt.

When we were little, our family was the typical family. Dad, Mom and 2 kids -sisters.

We played, ate, slept, worked – all normal activities.

We moved from New York to Maine when I was 2, and then to Illinois when I was 7. That was hard, but at 7, you adapt.

Then, dad left the next year. Where are you going? Florida? WITHOUT US?

The family unit was broken. Mom and Amy were mad at Dad. There were rumors. But I was 8. He was my dad. I loved him.

Our relationships changed. Mom confided in Amy too much. Amy was her daughter, not her friend. And it made Amy’s relationship with Dad strange. All he wanted to do was talk to her, but she was keeping him at a distance.

After 4 years, another break. Amy and I decided to go live with Dad in Key West. Who wouldn’t? We tried to change our minds at the last minute. Panic and fear set in. No luck, as plans were already made and school registrations were complete. Another move. I would start 7th grade in Key West.

In March, Mom was sick. To see what was going on they performed exploratory surgery. Pancreatic cancer. 6 months to live.

Mom died in June. A big, big break in the family. I was 13. Amy was 16. We were devastated.

Dad remarried and life went on.

In 2010, married and with 2 children, Amy was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer. Cancer? Again? Are you kidding me? Turns out, as a secondary cancer, pancreatic cancer is a hereditary cancer. Amy tests positive for the BRCA-2 gene. I do not have it.

In July of 2018, Dad died unexpectedly. They’d been out the day before, and Becky found him in the bathroom in the morning.

Now, it’s just Amy and I. Strange to technically be an orphan at 48.

Amy’s cancer spread aggressively. 2 brain surgeries, CyberKnife on her spine, chemo, lung extractions. After 2 weeks in ICU, she was sent home on hospice in December, 2019. We had an amazing Christmas together. I was with Amy when she took her last breath in the early morning of January 20, 2020.

Now, I’m alone. I’m broken. Love to give and nowhere to go. Why do I keep getting left behind?