What I learned

Two years ago this month, I was tending to my dying mom. It gave me a different dose of reality.

With each parent, I’ve been aghast and angry with them, at life, at the loss of potential, leaving me with more trinkets than positive memories, and the loss of dignity they had to endure. I was angry that I had to learn not to have any emotional dependence on them but they could depend on me when it was time to go. I don’t regret being there for them.

Death can screw up one’s memory.

In returning to New York after dad, it hadn’t sunk in and I kept forgetting. I aimlessly wandered the city and saw a beautiful old timey shaving kit in a window. “I should get it for him.”

With mom, I worried I was experiencing early dementia. I couldn’t remember a lot of things. I was in a mental fog for a long time.

It’s hard to tell if I’m fully recovered but, recently, I did recognize and recall a very distant acquaintance’s (someone I knew of but didn’t know) first name from 30 years ago. He was excited at being recognized. I was excited for my neurons. As I walked away, I tapped my skull, “You’ve still got it.”

Ultimately, both losses felt as if a cosmic umbilical cord had been cut and I was fully alone now.

Despite everything, I miss them and my heart hurts.

From parental death I learned:

We all reach a point where certain milestones disappear and what we have to look forward to is loss.

I have no father to walk me down an aisle, no children. No family holidays; we barely had those when all were alive.

There won’t be jubilations over births, first steps, school, engagements, etc. I don’t feel sad about not having kids. It was never in my orbit. And I don’t believe I was meant for anyone. Over the years, that is the message I have received and I must make other use of my time.

Life here is just a lesson.

I’ve learned why I needed to experience hardships, loneliness, and absenteeism early on. These things created some faults but also a lot of self-knowledge.

Some parents don’t know how to love and it’s the children who must teach them, at least when it’s their time to go.

I also learned that it’s an albatross around one’s neck. Best not to discuss death with those who lack emotional depth, who are afraid of confronting pain.

You will lose people who are living.

These days, I pretend to care about issues that, in the big scheme of things, don’t matter at all. I would rather say, “Is this really a concern for you? Is there maybe anything else you could do with your time and energy?”

You have to learn how to deal with stuff alone and save yourself.