It is 5AM and the grief over losing my mom in 07 and dad in 01 often wakes me up each night....More soon

 Dave

I lost both my parents in the same year about four years ago. My father, quickly and unexpectedly in March, and my mother, much later than we'd hoped for in November. (Her Alzheimer left her bed-ridden but unaware for almost 6 years. ) Maybe because we anticipated her loss so long, it was anti-climactic.

I felt more a sense of ascension to the final "grown-up" stage than any huge extra sense of loss. The saddest part was that inability to finally work things out with them. And I'll agree I'm still working on accepting that.

I'm not sure if it's easier or harder because I'm estranged my siblings, and the people who know me now, know me only in a present sense. My personal history is a private past; nobody shares my memories but me.

If there were still regular ties to family, history and the past, I wonder if I would the loss more deeply.

Debra
A Stitch In Time
Deb's Daily Distractions

Yes, for good or ill, ones parents were the repository of familial memory. They knew us before we could remember being known. I understand what you mean about ones personal history becoming a private past. In fact I have found myself becoming even more close to a childhood friend of mine -- someone I met when we were both 5 -- not only is she a dear friend, but we are both adult orphans. We have discussed together how good it is to have someone around who "knew us when".

~~ Contributing Editor, Mata H. also blogs relentlessly at Time's Fool

Two points you made resonated with me in particular...

The first is: Why is it that the world finds this a largely unmentionable topic?

I lost both my parents by the time I was 30, and have found that while my friends are loving and helpful and supportive, they are also dumbfounded. No one ever knows what to say. Or do. And I don't blame them -- we are not given much in the way of social tools to know how to handle this kind of loss.

The second point you made that I find myself struggling with all the time -- especially as a blogger! -- is: The two people we generally need to 'work things out with most' are suddenly unavailable for comment.

It's one thing to talk and think and write about my parents in a "this old story..." kind of way; it's quite another to talk and think and write about negative and/or unresolved issues I had (have?) with them. It seems unfair and one-sided...but what is the alternative?

Anyway, it's comforting to remember my sisters and I aren't the only ones struggling with this circumstance.

It just was such a surprise to me that there I was -- here we are -- at such a huge and common developmental phase in life, and to find it so unchartered, so unmentioned.

Thirty is such a young age to lose both ones parents -- my heart goes out to you. It is a sad phenomenon that so many people get dumbstruck in the face of a friend's grief.

Thank you for writing about this subject. I lost my dad about 5 years ago. It was a major turning point in my life.

I had to adapt and change to my new reality. He was always present in my life and was there when I had to make major decisions ever since I was a young child. Then, everything changed and suddenly I felt very alone without the protective guidance of my father.

I put a premium value on the relationship that I have with my mother now. I am more independent since my father passed away and have finally embraced my own personal journey even more.

http://raysofsunlite.blogspot.com/

My father had a massive stroke on Fathers' Day. He was in the ICU until the following Friday, when we moved him to Hospice.
He has been there for 8 days. We sit and wait until he is ready. I am so tired, weary actually. It is an interesting place to be. Life goes on around me. The sky is the infinite azure sky of summer. I sit and listen to the oxygen machine that eases my dad's breathing, and I watch his chest rise and fall. His face is peaceful.
I drive to the Hospice automatically. My mom died 9 years ago, exactly 1 month after my grandmother had died. She was at the same Hospice.
When we have lost both parents, there is no longer a buffer between ourselves and our mortality. It becomes the elephant in the room. People smile and nod. And so it goes.

http://www.fromskilledhands.com

For whatever consolation it may bring, please know that I will hold you and your family in my prayers. I know the weariness of the watching, the waiting. It makes our souls tired, but it is a deep gift you are giving your father to be with him as he makes his transition from this life. That doesn't make it easier now, but it may bring you comfort later. Right now is just the waiting and the loving witnessing to his passage. I understand the deep disconnect. I recall looking at people going about their lives happily while my Dad was dying and just not feeling connected to their world. I hope you have a lot of support around you and that you can seek it out if it isn't readily at hand.

~~ Contributing Editor, Mata H. also blogs relentlessly at Time's Fool

My father died on Monday evening. I instinctively knew that would be the day. My sister and I kept vigil while he made his transition. A gift to be with one who was with me as I entered this world as he departed. The memorial service and celebration of his life will be Friday. I am writing my thoughts to share. Another interesting place to be.
thank yu for your kind thoughts.

~debra
http://www.FromSkilledHands.com
~Keeping the faith that art is alive and is an essential part of all our lives

Dear Debra - The transition was both yours and his. It was a gift to you both to be present at that time, and I am glad you had your sister around as well. I eulogized my mother, and also was one of her pallbearers (despite the hearty objections of the funeral parlor). Do what you need to -- say what you need to -- and carve your own best healthy way through this time. There are lots of adjustments to be made as you enter the world of the parentless. Seek out support and let others help you through this time. My prayers continue.

--Mata

~~ Contributing Editor, Mata H. also blogs relentlessly at Time's Fool

We had the celebration of my Dad's life the Friday after he died. He would have had a wonderful time! There must have been 200 people, many of whom I had never met. Some I hadn't seen since childhood,some were part of the many groups in which he participated. It was interesting to hear the comments of those who knew him as Paul, rather than Dad. I wrote a piece called, My Dad, and read it at the service. The facilitator, from the American Humanist Society (per my dad's wishes) spoke of the time between the date of birth and the date of death--the time that encompasses the dash between those dates.
I've been inundated with paperwork, cleaning out his apartment and running daughter #2 hither and yon. I feel like soon I will crash and burn. I am tired but not sleeping well. An interesting time, this. It is hard for those who still have their parents to grasp the enormity of this stage of life. It is, for me, a time of quiet reflection--still trying to figure out how it all fits together.

~debra
http://www.FromSkilledHands.com
~Keeping the faith that art is alive and is an essential part of all our lives

Yes, this is an uncomfortable time -- not only are you grieving, but you have this new stage in your life to assimilate. Honor the need to be gentle with yourself during these months. Please get the support that you need, too. It is just too darned hard and complicated to go through it without support. My prayers are ongoing.

--Mata

~~ Contributing Editor, Mata H. also blogs relentlessly at Time's Fool