Grieving: Me and Maudie
The memorial is over. My life has resumed a more normal rhythm of work, creative projects, time with my husband; though some post memorial paperwork lingers regarding the estate. Conversations with people are in transition mode between how am I handling mom's passing and more everyday things.
On occasion, conversations about mom being gone take an odd, delicate hue. I may seem...not sad enough.
I understand they are asking about me from a very sincere place of compassion. But even grieving comes with a silent set of expectations I suppose. Alzheimer's Disease has a way of tossing all expectations out a window and giving you surprises at every turn in the disease. I simply, kindly tell them that I've grieved for mom earlier when I had to take things away from her as her illness progressed, as she became less of herself. That takes care of the momentary awkwardness.
I miss my mom every day. I carry my best memories of her in my heart to keep me warm in this cold, windy winter. And the truth is I'm relieved for her.
She was so sad and lonely when dad died that we thought her first visible dementia symptoms were due to her own grief. She admitted to both my sister and I that she knew it would be hard when dad died, but she didn't think it would be THIS hard. She understood that she had Alzheimer's and was truly scared by it. There's no treatment, no cure. She lost her independence in chunks and my dad wasn't here to help her through it. I'm relieved she's no longer suffering, and she's returned to her husband whom she so desperately missed.
But, mom was a feisty fighter who always wanted to be a good example for her children. So, she made the best of it. We truly lived in the moment, cherished each other's company, laughed. Not everything was about her disease. We held onto the person who was still there with us.
Grieving is as individual as the person experiencing the loss of a loved one. Just be there for those who grieve. And if some days I'm not so sad, it's because I'm celebrating and remembering the wonderful woman who was my mom.