Living Through Grief

It's been 11 months since I lost my Dad and 33 months since I most my Mom. A loss that was devasting, yet come with unbearable relief. A relief that I didn't have to watch my parents suffer from their illness and aging. they were no longer in pain.

You might be wondering why "Unbearable relief" ? It's hard to believe that there will be no more birthdays, holidays, family gossip sessions, shared smiles or funny moments with my parents.

No more chats or “good night” phone calls. It’s unbearable to realize that every day from now on, their voices won’t be there to celebrate my artwork or writing my articles. My biggest fans and influences are no longer here.

“Unbearable relief” because it was unbelievable to find myself orphaned in my late 40s. And at times, I feel lost without them.

My Relationship With My Parents

You see, I had an incredibly close bond with my parents. Even though I was the youngest of four, I was the one who hung out with my parents the most. There was a big age differences between me and my siblings so my childhood was one of being an only child at times.

When my husband asked me to marry him, I said yes first then told him, “one more thing, you marry me, you marry my parents, we will be caring for them as they age. Do you still want to get married?” He said yes!

As my parents become older, my husband and I took on the role of their caretakers. When their health got worse, it became a constant cycle of doctor’s appointments and complex diagnoses, each one affecting the other. Eventually, the symptoms became hard to manage.

My Mask Of Courage

I always had my brave face on, the constant cheerleader in a losing battle of aging. Trying to keep hope alive with maybe this treatment would work, because I had already given up on words like “fixed,” “cured,” or “healed” in my head. But as my parents wondered why it wasn’t working, the safest answer I found myself giving was, “Give it more time.” Deep down, I knew that it just wasn’t going to work.

When I lost my mother, I had to hide my grief from my Dad. I didn’t want to scary him because he, too, was afraid of the inevitable. His heart disease was progressing, and though he wanted to live, to be “cured” the treatments prescribed by doctors seemed to not work anymore.

When Medicine Fails

Medicines and treatments reached its limits. My father struggled with this concept. It didn't matter what the doctor’s expertise was, the quality of the hospital, or the potential success of another procedure, medicine and procedures can only extend a person’s time up to a point. When your time is up, it’s up. We did everything we could, but we couldn't fight nature or fate. It’s an unbearable to know this.

There’s a sadness within me, knowing that my parents are no longer physically here. I won’t hear their voices on the phone or see them in their chairs, eager to hear about the latest happenings in my life. Losing the two people who would always smile at my smallest achievements and celebrate just being together is so difficult.

But I find peace in the fact that my parents are with me in the memories we created. I keep those memories alive by replaying conversations, looking at their pictures, and talking to them about my day as if they were still here.

Acceptance

With acceptance brings relief. Relief that they no longer suffer, they are finally at peace. If you are going through grief, it’s okay to feel both sadness and relief. This journey isn’t easy, you will go through all the stages. Just remember to be kind to yourself if you are going through a grief period.

Thank you for reading.

This was previously published on Medium.