Learning to Carry the Loss:

Grieving from the Perspective of an insider

I wrote this for a colleague who shared their story with me. I wanted to share her story with you.

If you had asked me when I was younger, what the hardest part of being an adult would be, I probably would have told you: working a 9-5, raising kids, or getting along with my husband. I never would have imagined it would be losing my mother. To be fair, I was only 37 when my mother passed away, but I had always assumed that losing a parent, something that naturally comes with age, would be something I could handle. Well, I was wrong.

It seems I’m not the only one who thought I should be able to handle this loss. Well-meaning friends, neighbors, and family members share thoughts like “she lived a good life,” or “you had her for so long.” Those words were meant to be comforting, in theory, but all I heard was: ‘’This is what happens in life, you shouldn’t be having such a hard time’’. 

But I wasn’t okay, in fact I am still not okay, at least not in the way I thought I would be. The truth, which I learnt through therapy, is, it’s okay to not be okay. I also learnt that losing someone is not something we need to “get over”. We never really “get over” losing a loved one, we just learn how to live with it, one day at a time.

The Quiet, Lingering Grief

What really throws me for a loop, is the sneaky way that grief will sometimes wash over me, often when I least expect it. This didn’t just happen right after her passing; that I expected. However, months and years later, in the most random and unwanted places, I find myself thrown for a loop when the sadness of my loss washes over me. It could be when I pass by the park and remember the time she sat next to my daughter on the swings and swung her feet like a child, just to make my child laugh. Or when I’m in the grocery store and see the cereal she used to eat every morning for breakfast. The little things that made her who she was, those are what I miss the most.

Grief doesn’t follow my rules of time and space, it has its own structure. It comes and goes as it pleases, making itself seen, when it wants to be seen, and steps aside when it’s good and ready. It doesn’t care if I have somewhere to be, if I have a deadline at work, or whether I’m in the middle of putting my 8 year old to bed. Our memories, our loss, needs to be experienced, whether we make the space for it or not.

Feeling Alone, Even When You’re Not

I have a supportive husband, good friends, colleagues at work that I get along with, yet there are times when grief makes me feel so alone, that none of that matters. I think losing my mother has caused me to lose a part of my identity in some strange way. We are all tied to our parents, regardless of how close the relationship is, we are tethered to them; through lineage, history, and family. When that tether tears, we are left unsteady, struggling to figure out who we are in the context of their loss. Who we are with our ties torn.

A few short weeks after her passing, when the texts stop and the meals no longer arrive, and there is this expectation that things should return to normal, that I should be okay by now, I’m left in the dark feeling lost. Has my relationship to my mother made me who I am or was there more I should have learnt from her and how do I embody these new pieces now, with the role model no longer around? Some days I feel different, more grounded and even happy, but this cloud looms over me even then, begging me to question, who are you without your lifeline.

The Myth of Closure

For a long time, I thought there was some finish line to grief. I kept waiting for that moment when I’d wake up and feel fully healed, like I had graduated from mourning and was ready to rejoin the world without the weight of sadness. But that weight is still here, that moment hasn’t come, and I’m not sure it will. I’ve come to learn that it’s not always the weight that gets lighter, but I who gets stronger and able to carry this weight in a different way.

Grief has become a part of me now, part of who I have now become as a result of my loss. I believe it’s made me a better parent, friend, and wife. It’s allowed me to feel connection in different ways, to soak in the moments and appreciate their joy, create and document memories, ensuring I always have what to hold on to. In a way, my mother’s passing has made me more human and ironically, more alive.  

Getting support from a therapist while processing grief can make all the difference. Contact us to learn more about grief therapy at Creating Connections.