By Gemini Adams, MNFSH —
It took me a very long time to integrate the loss of my mother. Perhaps this was because she died so prematurely, at just 48 years old. She was still a young person in the eyes of many. As for me, at 21, I was even younger. We had only just learned how to become friends, having battled through the high’s and lows of my teenage years.
Just as we had come to see each other as allies, as women sharing similar challenges and interests, she was snatched away. It wasn’t unexpected. Mom died from cancer and her death was a long, drawn-out affair that took two and a half years, despite the fact that when she was diagnosed, she was given only three months to live.
After the death, the journey through grief was difficult. There were plenty misty days, thunderstorms, and moments when the car slid down the road, revealing a sheer cliff-face which had me frozen in a state of fear. But after a couple of years, the bad weather cleared, blue skies burst through the monotonous gray and there were occasional interludes of sun beams: small, but nonetheless brilliant. Here are a few of the poignant ones:
- When I realized I had heard the word Mom without my chest being flooded with searing pain and sickness.
- The first year that I noticed I was actually excited about Christmas, rather than totally depressed.
- When I was able to talk about Mom as if she were in the room, without fearing I would melt down into a blithering mess.
- The day I went to Bhakti yoga and the tears didn’t roll down my face for the entire one-and-a-half hours of the class.
Slowly, the void that had replaced the warm place of my loving heart gradually filled, with new experiences, faith that things would improve and that new relationships would arrive, even if none of them could ever replace what I had lost. None of this happened overnight, it took three, four, five, even ten years for some of the coins to drop.
Yet it began when I made a decision. Somewhere along the way, I’d had enough. Grief had come into my life uninvited. Until it showed up, I’d been a happy-go-lucky person. I was sure this negative state didn’t fit my personality profile very well. So, I remember waking up one day and thinking, Enough. This isn’t who I am. I don’t have to feel this way anymore. I’m choosing this and I can make another choice.
Now, by this time, I was pretty good at doing grief. Prior to losing Mom, I’d also been good at joy, hope, trust, and laughter. So I wrote my mom a note, telling her that it was time for me to remember her with love, but I was in need of a new beginning. I attached the letter to a beautiful red helium balloon, which I took to release at her graveside.
As it floated heavenwards against the clear blue sky, I drifted too, into a new place possibility, infused with healing, hope and happiness.
Gemini Adams is the award-winning grief expert and author of Your Legacy of Love: Realize the Gift in Goodbye.
Tags: grief, hope
My mom passed away 10 years ago when she was 49 years old and on vacation. She had a blood clot that formed in her leg and traveled to her heart. But I still feel lost, like a piece of me is missing. I’ve tried to talk to friends and my husband but I don’t think they understand me. My mom was my best friend. I just don’t know how to get over the lost feeling. Any advice?
Dear Ms. Adams,
I am Lucy. I turned to 23 on 5 January 2020, and on 16th my mother passed away at her 48. She was diagnosed with gastric cancer.
Your article was the first one that I reached to, and I felt like I am reading about my story, thought some details are different.
I am so sorry for your loss. Though I am happy to know that you could somehow ease your pain. I am sending you much love and energy.