<p>“Nobody would ever be as proud of my accomplishments ever again.”</p>
<p>This is something that comes to mind when I ponder how to appreciate my (thank God) still healthy parents. Once you lose your mom, no one will ever love you like that again. No one else is so permanently, unjustifiably, irrationally on your side. I know I can’t appreciate having them around the way I will wish I had when they are sick or gone…but I try.</p>
<p>Thank you so much for this thread, with its honesty, sweet memories, regrets, and longings. Though we all know, as someone earlier said, that we will likely lose our parents at some time in our lives, it is still so often a shock – and nothing prepares a soul for the gaping hole that is left behind. We are adults, well-established, somehow not supposed to miss our mommies and daddies-- but we do. Even after many years, when mostly the sweet memories come, there are the sudden “landmines,” as some grief counselors refer to those unexpected situations that remind us of someone-- as song on the radio, a book, a favorite meal that rekindle both the memories and the loss.</p>
<p>My dad died at age 59-- I was a young adult. He met the man I would marry, but not the children. My mother died 7 years later, 15 years ago, so she met some of her grandchildren, but did not see them grow up. She would have enjoyed them so much, and my father would have enjoyed discussing academic interests with my college D, who shares some of them. There is really no one else with whom to brag about one’s children. My parents had us young, neither had come from a particularly healthy home life, so they made many “errors”, there was too much criticism and judgment, but there was also much warmth and love. I have so much more compassion for them, now raising a teen and a young adult, since they had a household full of us. I wish I could have told them so…They were also amazingly tolerant and open to cultures and diversity; I was shocked as a child when I discovered that racism existed, but I never saw or heard it in my own home, which was an incredible gift that they gave me and my siblings as part of our upbringing. </p>
<p>My heart also goes out to those of you who are contending with elderly parents. It is so tricky also to navigate the change in roles, the balance between helping parents maintain dignity and independence, and ensuring their safety. I see this with my elderly father-in-law, going strong at 87, but losing his hearing, his stamina, and some of his joie-de-vivre. He is considering assisted living, but always finds a reason to defer visits to retirement communities. He has lost not only his spouse, but all of his friends. He does have 2 siblings left. </p>
<p>So, thank you so much for starting this thread. Kind of a virtual tribute to the departed, our relationships with them, or the relationships we wished we had forged. Blessings from CA to all of you.</p>
<p>Sybbie I read your post and wept; my folks are in their 80s and are both actively dying now and it is a lot of work for everyone involved but I am grateful to have had them for so long. Our releationships are not perfect and never have been but they have been loving parents and I will miss them when they travel on. My mom had breast cancer in 1977 and in a dream she came to me then and told me she would let me know when it is time to go and it is not time yet and she is still present. Recently she told me she envied the eskimo way of sailing off on an iceberg. My wish for her now is to sit down in a chair and gently drift off once we get me dad off on his way. We are in soup right now but “this too shall pass.”</p>
<p>I will say that every once in a while I get a whiff of cigar and my heart lifts as that is the smell of both my Grandpas. I also still smile when I hear songs that remind me of my Grandmas.</p>
<p>Today is my dad’s birthday–he would have been 108; he passed away 13 years ago at 95. I was born when he was 47, but he was always energetic and young-acting. He was very conservative politically, and because my sister and I grew up in the 60’s, probably good that he didn’t have sons because there would have been violent discussions about the merits of U.S. involvement in Vietnam, and the desire of teenage boys to grow long hair.</p>
<p>He was a very loving but somewhat distant father; my sister and I adored him but were a little afraid of him. By the time my children came along he was suffering from the debilitating effects of Parkinson’s disease; all that scariness was gone, as if he had decided he no longer needed to keep up a certain “father” persona, and what my kids remember is a very sweet, somewhat silly, affectionate grandfather. They couldn’t imagine him as a strict disciplinarian, which he was.</p>
<p>My mother died 6 years ago at 90. She was a strong, pragmatic woman, and although she loved us and her grandchildren, she made no secret of the fact that she desperately missed my dad and was ready to go any time to be with him. She was a terrific mother in most ways, and in the ways that she wasn’t (too inflexible, not willing to hear another point of view), I tried not to do that with my own children, and feel that I have been successful in overcoming the kneejerk reaction to be inflexible myself.</p>
<p>They were both wonderful parents and grandparents, and I do miss them in different ways and for different reasons. I’ve cried, too, reading this thread. This is truly the hardest part about being a grownup.</p>
<p>It is very sad as our parents age and lose their siblings and friends, so many others in their 80s are either dead or mentally/physically infirm. My Dad died last year and it has been very lonely for my mother as they moved to live near us once he had his diagnosis. It’s tough to make new friends in the 80-100 age range :(</p>
<p>Sybbie, your post broke my heart. I’ll be keeping you and your school community in my thoughts.</p>
<p>Interesting to me that others still dream about long deceased parents. My father died 35 years ago and still every once in a while shows up in a dream. I honestly don’t miss him so much for me, but I wish he had a chance to know his grandchildren, and they him.</p>
<p>sybbie - tears in my eyes. {{hugs}} to you and your school community and to that poor young man.</p>
<p>My mother died seven months ago, and over the summer she started to show up in my dreams. She’s always content, even joyful, and I always wake up happy. Also this year, I’ve lost another family member I loved to cancer, found out that a longtime friend has serious cancer, and learned just this week that another dear friend is in the early stage of Alzheimer’s at age 60. It’s complicated saying goodbye to a parent and then turning around and realizing that I’m going to be saying goodbye to people my age, with whom I’ve gone through nearly all of life’s passages. We thought we’d be sharing retirement, but with this stage of life comes inevitable loss. Maybe my yearning for my parents is connected to these feelings.</p>
<p>
I’ve started to reply to this thread many times, but never could find the right words. The above quote from Hanna is a good one and is how I feel. I lost both of my parents to illnesses at relatively young ages (Dad was 45 and I was 15; Mom died 11 years later). Neither had even met my now-husband, let alone grandchildren. I do miss them, but it’s been so long for both that it’s almost kind of abstract. I’ve found the times that I miss them most are when it comes to my children. When they were little (and even now), MIL (who I’m not particularly fond of) often would see them do or say something and would remark something along the lines of “Oh, their father did that when he was little” I never had someone to make those connections for me and it makes me sad. My parents would have made spectacular grandparents and it hurts to not have them at the special occasions - graduations, etc - as well as all of the little things. Those things that to most people you’d sound like a braggart to convey, but that a parent or grandparent revels in, like “S made a perfect score on SAT” (this didn’t happen, but you get the idea 
) or “D made the only goal in her lacrosse game and coach said XYZ about how great she is” I’m lucky that I have a sister who loves my kids as her own and I can do that sometimes, but not the same.
Sigh…</p>
<p>This thread is like the book that you read knowing that its an important and real, but knowing that the material will make you cry. I too have a the rare dream where my mother and father make an appearance. I am guilty of once seeing a woman wearing a red coat with the same hairdo and body structure as my mother…and breaking in the middle of Wilshire boulevard to hi and stopping, mid breaking, to realize that it wasn’t my mother.</p>
<p>To all of us who have lost loved ones, hugs. To those of us (including my dh who expressed these exact sentiments) who have lost parent(s) and don’t have warm or good memories…double hugs. It is terrible going on with the rest of your life knowing that one piece of life’s puzzle will forever be missing.</p>
<p>Saying that “I miss my dad” understates the recurrent feelings i have for my old-school, smart, loyal, providing, protecting, loving father.</p>
<p>Plus, for me he will never be gone. He lives on as the most important ingredient of myself.</p>
<p>Sybbie, What an awful thing to have happen! Losing parents and parents-in-law as middle-aged (or older) adults is very hard, but losing a parent suddenly as a HS student is so much worse. I am so sorry for that young man and his family. And for you and your colleagues, who take this so hard and share the pain.</p>
<p>There are so many poignant stories on this thread. Reading it is bringing back memories. I’m even thinking of the two grandparents I knew well. They lived across the street when I was growing up, and we were very close to them. I was especially close to my grandmother, who gave me emotional support that my parents were not able to provide, having 9 other children and various problems and issues of their own. She died when I was in college, and I was devastate. But I consider myself extremely fortunate to have had a grandparent that long, and to have had my father into my late middle age, and to still have my mother.</p>
<p>I miss my dad who died 36 years ago, but I was so young, I didn’t really know him well enough to miss him, because he spent most of his non working hours either in his darkroom, or with my brother.</p>
<p>My mother who died almost two years ago, I miss a lot more, because I was just starting to appreciate the things about her that drove me crazy.</p>