My father died over nine years ago. In his lifetime I'd have said I got on better with my mother.
My father was very withdrawn and could be angry and violent. Looking back it seems entirely possible that some - though not all - of his difficulties were caused by high-functioning autism which meant he was unequal to being an engaged husband and parent.
My mother worked very hard to - in her eyes - keep the family together and had a very difficult time caring for my father in his final illness. His selfishness meant he made huge demands on her. Out of a feeling that it was right to support her I took her to see my father in the hospice at the end of his life. When the end was very near, I also slept in the private room they had moved him to so that he didn't die alone. On the next day - which was his final day - I was the one sitting with my father when he died. Other family members who'd come earlier had gone by then.
This was the first time I had been with somebody when their life drew to an end.
I had initially expected that my mother, when she came to the hospice, would ask me if I was okay. One part of my mind very quickly understood that she would be dealing with the loss of her husband, so that her feelings as a wife would be at the forefront of her mind. Any wish to check if I was alright would come later. In fact the only emotion she seemed to show towards me was a flicker of anger - when I greeted her I was a bit unsure whether I was meant to ask her to see the nursing sister first or take her straight to my father. I think she felt I was - somehow - in the way.
To cut a long story short I spent some months trying to be a good daughter to my bereaved mother, and listening during that time to accounts of how difficult parts of her marriage had been. However, I spoke about the fact that I too had found him difficult, she would cut me off and tell me what a good father he had been.
She has never once asked me what I felt about him or thanked me for trying to support her - and him - at this time.
I am angry and hurt, though I also in the last year or two begun to think that my mother has 'something missing'.
I just wondered whether other people had experienced something similar. That feeling that the death of one parent has, in a sense, led to a feeling that both parents have been lost.