Hi everyone,
I just thought I’d update…
I still struggle to calm the ache I feel at losing Mom. Some guilt and “should haves” remain but not as intensely. I wish I could forget the trauma of being at her bedside during the last 24 hours of her life. Her labored breathing was unbearable and it just went on and on and on. I still can’t understand why the heck the morphine didn’t end it faster.
My Mom was Japanese and I’m leaving on June 1st to Japan to gather with her remaining 6 sibilings (she was the oldest) to spread some of her ashes at the family grave. She didn’t have close relationships with her sibs for reasons that are too hard and lengthy to explain.
It has been almost 30 years since I (and Mom, for that matter) we’re there. Japan has such a complicated cultural dynamic and my Japanese skills are limited. I’m not sure how I will explain the arc of her life in the US.
Needless to say this trip is loaded with so much anxiety and this will probably be the last time I see everyone. They don’t know me anymore and vice versa.
Mom never felt like the many, many sacrifices she made for her family during the war and after we’re ever acknowledged. She was bitter about it until the end.
I wonder if Mom will be at peace knowing that her sibs are making a huge effort to gather in her memory and acknowledge, in their own private way, her sacrifices. Japan is not a demonstrative society.
I don’t know if Mom would have wanted this but it just seemed right to me to be there on the anniversary of her passing and I am heartened that the siblings she helped will be there. I hope they will not be there out of obligation…
I get triggered when well-meaning people tell me about the “closure” I will feel after this trip. I don’t even know how I’ll feel and it’s as if folks think I’ll come home and move on. I constantly feel the unsaid expectation that after one year I should be a lot “better”. I am, and I’m not.
These are my thoughts right now and I thought I’d share. As always thank you for you listening and support this past year.
I remember getting a strange tightness in my chest as the one-year anniversary of my dad's death approached. I'm not one to commemorate the anniversary of deaths, so I didn't really understand why I was feeling so tense and stressed out. I know I was concerned about my mother's reaction to the date, but that was dumb because she had dementia and hadn't known what the date was on any day for years and certainly didn't know on what date my dad died. She'd also forgotten my dad by then, too.
As it turned out, once that milestone "first year" was officially over, I felt like I could breathe again. I don't know why, but somehow getting through one full rotation around the sun made it bearable again.
We don't commemorate Dad's death but rather remember him on the happier anniversary of his birth. The same goes for my mother. Her birthday was the day before mine, so I'll always remember her then, but the date of her death is just another day.
I didn't have the same reaction to Mom's death as my dad's since it was time for her to go, and my dad's death had been a shock.
You will continue to feel better.
I love that story. Music truly is a universal language.
I get "closure" in the oddest places, 6 years after my mom's death.
I was driving home the other day and heard a recording of Renee Fleming sing "You'll Never Walk Alone" from Carousel.
My mother loved Opera, Carousel and American Musical Theater. She introduced me to all three at a young age and I love them still (Opera took me a while to grow into). I realized what a gift she'd given me. It felt like so much love.
I wish you peace on your visit.
I pray it will be a time of healing for all of you.
I remember your posts when you were caregiving for your mom.
It’s so hard to be a full time caregiver. I cared for my mom as well. I have a mixture of good and bad memories.
Follow your heart. I wish you peace as you mourn the loss of your beloved mother.