- This topic has 4 replies, 5 voices, and was last updated 6 years ago by
.
- Posts
I wrote this back in May 2011 just a week or two after my mom passed away. It is a reflection on the journey we take through life and the way we relate to the ones we love. I know there are others who have gone or are currently going through the loss of a parent and I hope these words,written in a time of deep sorrow, may somehow help another person to remember that those who are no longer with us physically will always remain with us in our hearts.
As I think about the journey of life from beginning to end
As I think about the journey of life from beginning to end, it reminds me of a high wire act in the circus. I don’t know exactly how one actually trains for that kind of stuff, but I imagine you might start out by taking baby steps while holding on to someone else’s hand. Much the same way as a baby learns to walk and later to ride a bike-initially Mom or Dad holds you upright and preventing you from falling-but eventually letting go so you are on your own. But not truly on your own as they walk or run beside you ready to catch you if you start to fall. Later as you grow into young adulthood, they may take you to college(or perhaps the military)-dropping you off that first day to face the world on your own. And yet still, through letters, calls and visits, they make their presence known. Despite the many miles that may separate you physically, their love and support are tangible.
There is an old song my parents used to listen to sung by Foster and Allen called “a Mother’s Way”:
It’s just a mother’s way
To worry through the day
‘Bout every little thing
Like falling off a swing
When you are out at playThe years slide quickly by
The Summers seem to fly
And then you move along
You break out on your own
But you don’t see her cryFor a while she hides behind a smile
But then her eyes reveal
She worries still todayTake her hand
Show her you understand
A little tenderness will go a long, long wayAnd now the years have flown
She’s sitting all alone
With all her photographs and memories of the past
She’s glad when you come homeFor a while she hides behind a smile
But then her eyes reveal
She worries still todayTake her hand
Show her you understand
A little tenderness will go a long, long wayFor a while she hides behind a smile
But then her eyes reveal
She worries still todayTake her hand
Show her you understand
A little tenderness will go a long, long way
A little tenderness will go a long, long wayI think that children can only truly understand this song when they have their own kids. I still remember the only time I saw my mom cry in front of me-when my sister and her husband were moving to another state far away due to his job. While proud of the independence your kids begin to show, the pride is tinged with sadness that time with them will be less frequent than before. I am at that stage in life as well, as my children reach the age where they are spreading their wings and soaring away from the nest.
I know this is both necessary and a good thing, but it leaves me wondering where the future will take me. My parents were blessed to spend fifty years together before my dad passed away in 2004. That was an especially difficult year for me as I felt not only the grief in that loss but also dealt with the end of my own marriage of 14 years. As I navigated the difficult shoals of the divorce proceedings, I moved back to the home of my mother who was alone in her home at the time. This helped me in dealing with financial issues, gave her companionship, and eased the worries of my siblings for her safety knowing someone would be there with her. The last six years were wonderful in that I was able to re-kindle the relationship that had faltered during the years before my dad passed when we were, unfortunately, infrequent visitors to my parents’ home. Having missed the last years of my dad’s life, I was determined not to make the same mistake with my mother. In this I was successful as we both enjoyed the times we spent together playing cards, doing crosswords and listening to music.Her eyes grew worse a few years ago causing her to have to give up reading for pleasure which had been one of her favorite pastimes. Still her health seemed fine. She remained active, enjoying the trips to upstate New York visiting her familial home and the relatives still living there. Then last fall, she had a stroke and during the hospitalization and followup treatment, the doctors discovered a weak heart and terminal lung cancer. We were given the prognosis of 6- 9 months and set out to maximize the enjoyment of the time she had left here. The family grew even closer than we already were (well most of us anyway). Weekend nights became game nights with three generations often playing together while other times my mother would just watch us play, laughing at our antics. We had made plans to have “elephant day” on April 20th where we would travel to the Natural Bridge Zoo and ride the elephants there.
Alas, those plans were not to be fulfilled; the weekend of April 17th was the last we had with her while she was still lucid. I had spent Saturday evening watching John Wayne in “The Quiet Man” (one of she and my dad’s favorite movies) and then listening to Christian hymns together until 130 in the morning before stumbling off to sleep. I had asked her that night if she was scared of dying and she told me that she was at peace and had been blessed with her kids and grandkids. Late Sunday evening she called my sister to her room and told her she was having trouble breathing and we called the paramedics. She almost died that night in the ER and eventually after a little over a week in the hospital, she slipped away peacefully having seemingly waited for some last minute details to be taken care of before bidding this world farewell.
Those days in the hospital and the following days of making final arrangements were the most difficult I have ever experienced. When my dad died, we still had my mother to lean on for support and she was a rock for all of us. This time, though, it was just us kids-we had become the older generation struggling to be the support for each other and our own kids, while trying to maintain our own composure, too. The love and support of friends-not only in those final days but over the last six months as we knew the day would inevitably come-were lifelines to hold onto as the swirling waters of despair threatened to overwhelm me. Even now, just 10 days after the funeral-a time that seems both ancient history and moments ago at the same time-I know that they are there for me. I can let myself feel the grief and sadness of the loss without embarrassment and without worrying about being lost there forever. I know the wounds will heal eventually but the tears and pain are a necessary part of the healing process, too.
I also know that it is OK to feel happy, too. It is not betraying them or their memory to laugh and enjoy the good things that continue to be a part of our lives as well. Life necessarily goes on and though, with time, the memories of these past few months will fade, they will not vanish. The influence of parents on their children and grandchildren is immeasurable. Each of us is a product of our experiences and how we react to them and it is how we are raised by our parents that helps determine the values we live our lives by even after they are gone. Though we may not still feel their physical presence as we wish we could, they both live on in our hearts and in the way we live our lives. Help me to honor them in everything I do and help the next generation to remember them as well. May each of us treat each other as we would if they were sitting in the room with us.
That high wire act I mentioned at the beginning continues. Though it may seem as if I am walking the rope without a net and no apparent means of support, it is an illusion. The reality is that I am surrounded by friends and family who care for me, encouraging me when I stumble and cheering me on when I succeed. And the parents I miss so much are not as far away as they seem-all I have to do is think of them and their prayers lift me up.
I’ll close this out with the lyrics to another song my parents listened to Foster and Allen sing-“Between the Two of Them”. The song encapsulates the way I will always remember my parents and their relationship with each other and with me.
They married back in forty-two
They were young and love was new
And every day that feeling grew
Between the two of themWhen work grew scarce and times got bad
The hope would chase away the sad
And hope was sometimes all they had
Between the two of themThe fifties came and the sixties went
A mortgage now replaced the rent
And they made the most of each day spent
Between the two of themThe children all turned out just fine
Then he retired in eighty-nine
Left with oh so little time
Between the two of themToday I braved the graveyard rain
And placed a rose between their names
And that’s the most that ever came
Between the two of themThough I miss them both so much
His crooked smile, her gentle touch
And the pleasures of just growing up
Between the two of themAnd though I miss them both so much
His crooked smile, her gentle touch
And the pleasures of just growing up
Between the two of themThank you, Lord, for sharing both my mother and dad with the world for the last eighty odd years. Their impact here will not be forgotten and we all look forward to that glorious day when we are reunited with them and You. In the meantime, please help me to be the person they raised me to be and to be there for all the others who have been there for me.
Hold on to those good memories Cynthia. I am sure they continue to help you be the person you were destined to be.
2016_relationship advice: skippy1965(Cynthia) original post:
I wrote this back in May 2011 just a week or two after my mom passed away. It is a reflection on the journey we take through life and the way we relate to the ones we love. I know there are others who have gone or are currently going through the loss of a parent and I hope these words,written in a time of deep sorrow, may somehow help another person to remember that those who are no longer with us physically will always remain with us in our hearts.
As I think about the journey of life from beginning to end
As I think about the journey of life from beginning to end, it reminds me of a high wire act in the circus. I don’t know exactly how one actually trains for that kind of stuff, but I imagine you might start out by taking baby steps while holding on to someone else’s hand. Much the same way as a baby learns to walk and later to ride a bike-initially Mom or Dad holds you upright and preventing you from falling-but eventually letting go so you are on your own. But not truly on your own as they walk or run beside you ready to catch you if you start to fall. Later as you grow into young adulthood, they may take you to college(or perhaps the military)-dropping you off that first day to face the world on your own. And yet still, through letters, calls and visits, they make their presence known. Despite the many miles that may separate you physically, their love and support are tangible.
There is an old song my parents used to listen to sung by Foster and Allen called “a Mother’s Way”:
It’s just a mother’s way
To worry through the day
‘Bout every little thing
Like falling off a swing
When you are out at play
The years slide quickly by
The Summers seem to fly
And then you move along
You break out on your own
But you don’t see her cry
For a while she hides behind a smile
But then her eyes reveal
She worries still today
Take her hand
Show her you understand
A little tenderness will go a long, long way
And now the years have flown
She’s sitting all alone
With all her photographs and memories of the past
She’s glad when you come home
For a while she hides behind a smile
But then her eyes reveal
She worries still today
Take her hand
Show her you understand
A little tenderness will go a long, long way
For a while she hides behind a smile
But then her eyes reveal
She worries still today
Take her hand
Show her you understand
A little tenderness will go a long, long way
A little tenderness will go a long, long way
I think that children can only truly understand this song when they have their own kids. I still remember the only time I saw my mom cry in front of me-when my sister and her husband were moving to another state far away due to his job. While proud of the independence your kids begin to show, the pride is tinged with sadness that time with them will be less frequent than before. I am at that stage in life as well, as my children reach the age where they are spreading their wings and soaring away from the nest.
I know this is both necessary and a good thing, but it leaves me wondering where the future will take me. My parents were blessed to spend fifty years together before my dad passed away in 2004. That was an especially difficult year for me as I felt not only the grief in that loss but also dealt with the end of my own marriage of 14 years. As I navigated the difficult shoals of the divorce proceedings, I moved back to the home of my mother who was alone in her home at the time. This helped me in dealing with financial issues, gave her companionship, and eased the worries of my siblings for her safety knowing someone would be there with her. The last six years were wonderful in that I was able to re-kindle the relationship that had faltered during the years before my dad passed when we were, unfortunately, infrequent visitors to my parents’ home. Having missed the last years of my dad’s life, I was determined not to make the same mistake with my mother. In this I was successful as we both enjoyed the times we spent together playing cards, doing crosswords and listening to music.
Her eyes grew worse a few years ago causing her to have to give up reading for pleasure which had been one of her favorite pastimes. Still her health seemed fine. She remained active, enjoying the trips to upstate New York visiting her familial home and the relatives still living there. Then last fall, she had a stroke and during the hospitalization and followup treatment, the doctors discovered a weak heart and terminal lung cancer. We were given the prognosis of 6- 9 months and set out to maximize the enjoyment of the time she had left here. The family grew even closer than we already were (well most of us anyway). Weekend nights became game nights with three generations often playing together while other times my mother would just watch us play, laughing at our antics. We had made plans to have “elephant day” on April 20th where we would travel to the Natural Bridge Zoo and ride the elephants there.
Alas, those plans were not to be fulfilled; the weekend of April 17th was the last we had with her while she was still lucid. I had spent Saturday evening watching John Wayne in “The Quiet Man” (one of she and my dad’s favorite movies) and then listening to Christian hymns together until 130 in the morning before stumbling off to sleep. I had asked her that night if she was scared of dying and she told me that she was at peace and had been blessed with her kids and grandkids. Late Sunday evening she called my sister to her room and told her she was having trouble breathing and we called the paramedics. She almost died that night in the ER and eventually after a little over a week in the hospital, she slipped away peacefully having seemingly waited for some last minute details to be taken care of before bidding this world farewell.
Those days in the hospital and the following days of making final arrangements were the most difficult I have ever experienced. When my dad died, we still had my mother to lean on for support and she was a rock for all of us. This time, though, it was just us kids-we had become the older generation struggling to be the support for each other and our own kids, while trying to maintain our own composure, too. The love and support of friends-not only in those final days but over the last six months as we knew the day would inevitably come-were lifelines to hold onto as the swirling waters of despair threatened to overwhelm me. Even now, just 10 days after the funeral-a time that seems both ancient history and moments ago at the same time-I know that they are there for me. I can let myself feel the grief and sadness of the loss without embarrassment and without worrying about being lost there forever. I know the wounds will heal eventually but the tears and pain are a necessary part of the healing process, too.
I also know that it is OK to feel happy, too. It is not betraying them or their memory to laugh and enjoy the good things that continue to be a part of our lives as well. Life necessarily goes on and though, with time, the memories of these past few months will fade, they will not vanish. The influence of parents on their children and grandchildren is immeasurable. Each of us is a product of our experiences and how we react to them and it is how we are raised by our parents that helps determine the values we live our lives by even after they are gone. Though we may not still feel their physical presence as we wish we could, they both live on in our hearts and in the way we live our lives. Help me to honor them in everything I do and help the next generation to remember them as well. May each of us treat each other as we would if they were sitting in the room with us.
That high wire act I mentioned at the beginning continues. Though it may seem as if I am walking the rope without a net and no apparent means of support, it is an illusion. The reality is that I am surrounded by friends and family who care for me, encouraging me when I stumble and cheering me on when I succeed. And the parents I miss so much are not as far away as they seem-all I have to do is think of them and their prayers lift me up.
I’ll close this out with the lyrics to another song my parents listened to Foster and Allen sing-“Between the Two of Them”. The song encapsulates the way I will always remember my parents and their relationship with each other and with me.
They married back in forty-two
They were young and love was new
And every day that feeling grew
Between the two of them
When work grew scarce and times got bad
The hope would chase away the sad
And hope was sometimes all they had
Between the two of them
The fifties came and the sixties went
A mortgage now replaced the rent
And they made the most of each day spent
Between the two of them
The children all turned out just fine
Then he retired in eighty-nine
Left with oh so little time
Between the two of them
Today I braved the graveyard rain
And placed a rose between their names
And that’s the most that ever came
Between the two of them
Though I miss them both so much
His crooked smile, her gentle touch
And the pleasures of just growing up
Between the two of them
And though I miss them both so much
His crooked smile, her gentle touch
And the pleasures of just growing up
Between the two of them
Thank you, Lord, for sharing both my mother and dad with the world for the last eighty odd years. Their impact here will not be forgotten and we all look forward to that glorious day when we are reunited with them and You. In the meantime, please help me to be the person they raised me to be and to be there for all the others who have been there for me.
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.
Recent Comments