Today is my mom’s birthday.
I’m not going to call her, post on her Facebook wall, or send her a card.
I lost her in March of 2012.
Losing a parent as a teenager/young adult is an absolutely surreal experience, and one that can’t be adequately described unless you’ve experienced it. It’s different than losing them as a young child, or as an older adult. It’s like a phantom limb that you keep trying to use and are reminded isn’t there. You’ll never fully be out of that grief, that alternate reality– it may not hurt like an open wound, but it will always be an underlying ache like a bruise or especially deep scar.
Sometimes you wake up after dreaming about them and it feels like you got punched in the gut. Sometimes you see their face in a sea of strangers. Sometimes you catch a passing scent and it’s exactly what they smelled like. I even see accents of her face in my own when I look in the mirror. And some days are definitely harder than others.
What I’ve found though, is that these feelings and experiences translate through and between others. When you meet others who have been through your same loss, it’s very relatable.
I’ve also realized that how others respond doesn’t change much, either. No matter how long it’s been, the default response is “oh my gosh I’m sorry” whenever I mention it. I get it, most people don’t know how to react. I understand you mean well. Unless I’m telling you in an emotionally intimate sense, though, I prefer a low-key response or no response at all. It’s nice to have sympathy at first, but after a while it’s just a grim reminder of how horrible it really is. Even just a “sorry to hear that” or “that sucks” is better; empathy can be more comforting and appropriate, especially in a more casual setting.
What is different is how each person grieves, and how long it can take for them to reach a comfortable point to talk about their experience and whether talking about it is a form of healing.
It’s been six years, and it’s still difficult to talk about. It’s still difficult to even think about. I was 17, about to graduate high school and turn 18. I feel like I lost out on a lot of important moments with her– graduating high school, moving to college, buying a house, even just introducing her to the amazing people I’ve met in my adult life.
I guess the point of all this is a bit of healing for me, and a bit of comfort for others who are in similar shoes. I’m trying to open myself up little by little in hopes that I’ll be more comfortable with my personal reality. I think the if you let a little bit of your heart show, it can help you find others who can empathize and relate with you.
Melissa Pegley 