I was lucky in that my parents were very old when they died - both in their 90s. I found it difficult to feel anything but gratitude for their long lives, well lived, and for the fact that neither suffered from dementia or a long, debilitating illness. Their deaths were relatively easy for me and my three siblings to come to terms with. We were thankful there had been no long decline, no prolonged suffering, and no drawn-out period of caring for them as they deteriorated. No care homes - their actual worst nightmare. They lived well and independently until the very end. We had so much to be grateful for.
It’s different when a parent dies young. My husband’s dad was just 56 when he literally dropped dead. He got barely half a life. He didn’t see us get married, didn’t get to be a grandad, and didn’t get to enjoy the long second act of life that his wife is still having.
My husband still feels cheated and sad about that loss. Less so as time has gone on, but the sadness is still there. And of course it is - his dad was denied so much.
We all have to find a way to live with loss, because death is an inevitable part of life. I think the important thing is to recognise what we had, rather than let what we’ve lost overshadow everything that remains. Life is too short and too precious not to keep living it.
I think we've done a good job as parents if, when we die, our children are sad to lose us but don't spend too much of their lives grieving for us.