Mama, this brought tears to my eyes, reading that your mom called to you and said she was sorry before she died. That is so beautiful.
I know you feel cheated and I know what you mean. I was so angry at my mother for years, for the things she said and the way she treated me. Not abusively, mind you, but certainly not loving me the way I needed to be loved. (Thank God my dad did). By the time I got to the point where I understood her and accepted her love the way she could give it, she was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and died within 6 months. So I, too, felt cheated. But no matter how much time we get or how many good times we have, we would probably never feel it was enough. We would want it to last! And you should feel relieved that she passed without having that need to apologize nagging at her soul. She died with peace in her heart. Not everyone does.
And don't ever feel like being a crybaby means you're weak. Crying shows that you are secure enough to feel your feelings and let them out.
It's a great release to cry. I call it an emotional orgasm.

Now I think of all her good things and not all the nastiness she showed me and I wonder if I'm deluding myself. She wasn't nice to me a whole lot but I always felt she loved me.

Can I relate to every word you're saying, Mamacat. Oh, the "why's" and "if only's" I've sobbed into my pillow over the past four years since my Mom died. She wasn't always nice to me either, and it took me a lifetime to realize the profound love she really did have for me. It does make the grieving process more difficult, I think, to have all these regrets and to wish we had known then what we know now. I'm working through it, slowly but surely, with the help of the wise women on this site.

The other thing that I find myself doing is nurturing other women's relationships with their own mothers, particularly the young women in my life. I tell them about my own blindness and inability to see my Mom's love until after she was gone, and encourage them to look beyond the nagging and mother-daughter differences and to cherish that unique love connection while they still have their Moms around.

It feels so supportive to hear someone else who has the same feelings. You lost your mother 4 years ago? And I lost mine 4 months ago and feel like I should be gotten over this constant ache. Thank you for letting me grieve and know I'm not alone. What a great group of women.

Mamacat, yes it was four years ago Oct 28th that my Mom died, and like you, I've often felt that I should have gotten over the agony of absence by now. But some days the ache is just as raw as it was that first year. I've just learned to allow myself a little cry now and then, and then pick myself up and keep moving forward until the next weepy day. I think they're getting farther and farther apart, although I think that the hole and the missing will never really go away, nor should it...I cherish that connection, and look forward to the time when it's more "glad and happy memories" than "aching loss".

4 months...oh Mamacat, you have to give yourself at least a whole year to even begin to feel any easing off of that agony...you have to get yourself through all the "firsts"...first Mother's Day, first birthday, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas...and then expect that events like Mother's Day and Christmas are still going to hurt years from now. My husband's not an emotional man, but even he profoundly misses his Mom now and then, and she died almost 20 years ago.

I think the trick is to learn how to gently and tenderly embrace the grief; accept that it's there and is going to be a part of your life for awhile. But know that it will become less and less sad, and will evolve into more of a cherishing, if that makes sense.

I embrace my ongoing grief now, because I can feel it slowly but surely changing into something more...in amidst the aching (and regrets), I'm now feeling the ability to honour my memories of her, and acknowledge the wonderful person she was and the important part she played in my life. In time, the honouring takes over from the grief and becomes the focus rather than the sadness.

You truly are not alone. You can bet that at any given time I'm feeling that ache...I don't talk about it too much anymore. These women here have let me weep many times here, and that alone has brought healing to my heart and helped me to find my way through my grief. You will always find a caring shoulder to cry on here, including mine.

Dear Mamacat,

I've found the affects of grief are cumulative. So at times,I would think, well, gee, I handled this and this and this alright. I'm going to be okay always. And then something else would happen and it all would hit me. I would be afraid to cry because I was afraid that once I started, there was this unending vat of tears, and I would never be able to stop. Mostly, I don't cry physical tears. Sometimes I picture myself crying, the tears pouring down my face.

That happened to me the first time years ago when my brother killed his neighbors, and I had to help the family get through the awful tragedy. I had to wait to cry. So I'd picture the tears coming down my face, and I'd feel the ache.

After my dad died it took me two and half years to really cry...oh there were a few tears now and then before that. With my latest loss, my sister died in June, I have hardly cried at all. But lately I noticed that I'm feeling the ache and picturing the tears again, running down my face. I feel the emptiness...I think of the ways we weren't close because we were so different. She loved me. I loved her...still do, of course. Knowing that she is free of the pain of her liver cancer does help, and that she is happy in her new life, helps too. But the hole is there.

I was thinking about it the other day and about all the losses over time and the way the world has changed since I was little - I'm 56. And I thought about the few really strong old women I have known and how much I respect them and their ability to have a good and satisfying life, in spite of/because of all the awful things that happened to them. If I have the opportunity to grow up to be a very old woman, I want to grow up to be like them. I'm going to explore these ideas in a book of fiction about several strong old women. It will be good therapy for me and hopefully for others who read it. We need heros again, good strong ones we can emulate. For me they are Aunt Lottie, friend Tosca and Aunt Ida. Their strength shines in my heart.

Bless you in the days ahead, you, Dreamer and Eagle Heart and all the other lovely women who have expressed their beauty and their losses. May you all find peace and comfort.

Vi

Vi, I never thought of it that way, but it makes sense that grief is cumulative. If you don't take care of each grief as it comes, it just adds
onto the next one. I've lost many close people also - my mom, dad, father in law, brother in law, sister in law and dear friend. I cry more now about them than I did at the time. Especially about my dad, who died 21 years ago.
That is so awful about your brother. What a shock that must have been for your family.

[ November 03, 2005, 07:12 PM: Message edited by: Western Bluebird ]

Western Bluebird,

I did the best I could to release and grieve as each thing came up. I was a psych major in college - it taught me what to do. But the affects were cumulative anyway. My dad died 22 years ago. I'm really okay with that loss now. I recently dreamed about him, he was getting new tires on the car so he could come and take Mom home with him. She's 87, and it's time for her to go. It was a nice dream. I was comforted by it.

It was horrid with my brother. It's something a person never expects. My parents were good and loving people. It turns out my brother is schizophrenic - his mind was messed up by prescription drugs. They are what pushed him over the edge. I wrote a book about it. It is out of print, but you might be able to find it used on Amazon.com. It's called Hidden Victims: The Other Side of Murder.

One of the sayings I like best is by Helen Keller - "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." To me this life is all about learning, growing and becoming. I am a far better person because of all the pain. And I'm happier.... Happiness is a gift I give myself - a decision I make every day.

Vi

Vi, Helen Keller and I share the same birthday (different years . I once had a poster of an adorable little Native American girl and the quote on it was one of hers: "Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadow."

I will check out Amazon for your book.

Western Bluebird - Thanks for checking for the book.

Have you ever noticed that the people who inspire us the most are the ones who have lived through the most difficulties. Makes me think that maybe those of us who have lived through hard times can inspire others too.

Vi - You are a writer!!! I always dreamed of being a write but never had enough confidence. You also have had a life of trials which appears to have made you a strong wise woman and it is my honor to have met you. I am finding these women here are finding strength and wisdom during their trials. I continue to be "tested". Yesterday I had to take my 13-year-old daughter to hospital for being suicidal and cutting herself. She too has been through all the loss and to top it off has been bullied at school. She is in 72-hour lock down. I meet with social worker today. Husband preferred not to go with me. Will keep you all posted and thanks for all your wonderful posts.