How did you go on when your parents passed ?

[Werkinggirl]

For those of you whose parents have passed or one of your parents. Mine are both still alive, but getting older, life is short and that time will come. I'm incredibly close to mine, also have a younger brother (12 years younger) who I care dearly about. I worry about anything happening to them and I don't think i'd be able to go on living if they went. I'm single with no children either so I would have nobody.

I lost my father last March. He was 57 and it was unexpected.

As well as the pain of losing my dad (I was a real daddies girl) were the unexpected things. Like suddenly not having someone pick my son up on a Friday, so my work situation had to change. The fact that my mother needed more attention (she has epilepsy and can't really be alone).

I didn't cope well with it at all. I'm doing better now. I actually attempted to kill myself a few months after he died. It was entirely irrational, and I thought I was doing okay until then.

I don't cry daily anymore. But Christ I think about him. It's getting easier though.

@3rdchristmaslucky I am so sorry 💐💐 57 is no age at all. I can fully understand why you felt like you wanted to do that,and i'm glad to hear you are getting better. At least you have your mother and son 💐

My mother passed away suddenly and it is very hard to explain how you do go on. I really think that the best description I have ever seen is the one comparing it to a ship wreck full thread here

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

it is 5 years since my mother died and almost 2 since my dearly loved MIL passed away and I still get waves of grief and it can still take my breath away as the pain of missing them hits me. However, as it says in that shipwreck analogy somehow you don't want the waves to stop there is a comfort in them in a way and that is what teaches you to move on and to continue...

There is no choice. Brutal but true. Both of my wonderful parents have died and I miss them every day. I have never stopped grieving but time does soften it somewhat. When I think of them now, I do it with a smile because I remember the happy times we had. I do feel for you, OP, I am an only child and used to wake in the night worrying about the time they were no longer here. You re in my thoughts.

My mum died (sorry I hate saying passed etc) suddenly 5 years ago.
I coped ok at the time, it was awful and very stressful but you just get on with it and put one foot in front of the other.
After 6 months or so I got delayed grief and did struggle with my mental health for a good year or so after.

Fast forward to today and I still think of her but not daily. Her death doesn’t affect my life anymore. I still miss her but it’s not all consuming.

I think it depends on when and how it happens. My mum died in her late eighties, having led a very active and fulfilled life. She had a very strong faith and during her final illness she decided to decline treatment. I took a lot of comfort from the fact that she was mentally competent to make that decision and that my siblings and I were able to spend a final few peaceful days with her. Much as I missed her desperately I knew she wouldn't have wanted to linger on with no real quality of life.

It's the natural order - everyone dies and usually your parents will before you. My father died and I was quite devastated until my husband died just a few months later at 51. That made me realise that though my father was very active and busy and had potentially many more years of good living in him, he was 79. My husband was at his peak, had two small children, two teenagers and still had half his life ahead of him. My mother died several years later, almost 90, and had been in considerable pain for the last couple of years. I believe it was her time and for her to live longer would have just meant more suffering, even though I know she was scared of dying.
And you will carry on. Because that's just the way it works.

Please don't spoil what you have now worrying about what happens later, losing your parents is hard, bloody hard, but you still have the chance to appreciate your parents right now. There's so many things I wish I'd asked sooner, or things I should have said, but now it's too late.It's not too late for you so please make the most of it

Sorry, meant it's NOT to late for you

This

@Werkinggirl you just have to find a way to move on, life throws curve balls. My Dad was diagnosed aged 56 with terminal cancer and was given 3 months to live, it honestly hit me like a freight train. He managed to live 3.5 years thanks to him having private healthcare, I am so incredibly grateful for those extra years! I was 30 when he died a year ago, I still feel robbed of all those years and are so jealous of those people who have their parents into old age. Life can be so unfair and short, you definitely have to pick your battles. Towards the end he suffered terribly, it was heartbreaking as I don’t want to remember him as a weak, fail old man in a hospital bed waiting to die. I remember the good times with him and think myself very lucky he was my Dad. Enjoy the times you have with your parents, the little memories are the important ones!

I lost my mum last year. She was only 66, she got a chest infection and ended up being diagnosed with stage 4 cancer. 5 weeks later she was gone.

I actually don't know how I have gone on. I've just taken it day by day. I miss her every minute of every day.

She was my best friend. It was just me and her for all my childhood. A part of me died when she passed away.

I'm not sure it's something I'll ever accept or get over. I've just carried on for my daughter.

Thanks very much. Feel emotional reading these replies and you really do have to make the most of your time with them. I'm so sorry to read of others' loss on here.
My parents gave and still give my brother and I a very good life. I have one Grandma left who is abroad and in her late 80s, she's struggling.
I have had bad luck and problems with men all my life including cheating and abuse, I do wonder if I will ever have a family. I am afraid of being completely alone with nobody close, but like posters have said you find a way to go on.

You just have to go on and it is the circle of life when parents live to a good old age.
Instead of dwelling on what is to come it means you are not making the most of the present. Enjoy your time with your DP's now.

Sorry to say but you cope because there is no other choice, the pps analogy about shipwrecks is accurate, it's so true to say that you almost don't want the unbearable reminders to stop or even slow, I remember my first commute after my darling dad died when I realised as I parked that I hadn't cried that morning and burst into uncontrollable sobs because I thought I was forgetting him after weeks and weeks of crying all the way to work. I wasn't.

I lost my lovely Dad when I was 20 so almost 20 years ago now, he had a cardiac arrest and fell to the floor in front of me but I couldn't save him, he was 54. I'd had lots of first aid training as an RNLI lifeguard but couldn't save him and that was a cause of awful guilt for a very long time so I had to have counseling, eventually it faded along with the grief but I still think of that day and wonder if I should have (of?) done something differently. My Mum managed to move on and has married twice since but as I was also a daddies girl it took me about 3 years to do the same.
This year will be much better as I'm getting married (2nd time round) to a great guy at Easter so things are looking good

I lost my mum 13 years ago when she was 59, after illness. That destroyed me and changed me utterly. 13 years on, I still think of her every day, still get upset sometimes, still get angry. I'm definitely still experiencing grief. I was very close to her. But my life has gone on. I got married and had 2 kids since she died. You just have to go on. And I think she'd be absolutely furious with me that I've spent so much time being so sad about her dying.

@portia that must have been so horrendous for you. There's so much (unfounded) guilt involved in grief, it must have been such a weight for you to bear at a young age.

What @Pipandmum said, and definitely what @user1465335180 said.

It is the natural order of things that, at some point, it is statistically likely that you will lose your parents. Circumstances are so variable, and for some, they are ready and pleased to be released from pain and suffering. For others of course it is sad, but expected, and sadly for others it is very much Unexpected, and some are taken far too young.
However this is your life, TODAY. Don't spend it wandering 'how you would cope' if and when this happens. Live your life now, today, for you.
Get out and create a community around you. Join things, make friends. You might even meet someone special, but it you don't, you won't be 'alone'.

I lost my dad in the early teens and my mum in my early 20s. It was hard, so hard but time heals and eventually you can remember them with happiness rather than only sadness. You have to just sort of carry on and get on with life, I used to find myself calling my mum’s number for a good few months after she passed and I still can’t delete her texts to me but it is infinitely easier. After all your parents would hate for you to lose your quality of life so you have to try to make the most of it. Losing my parents young did make me realise life is short and moping would be an absolute waste of it.

You go on, in my experience, because you must. Yes, you could die yorself, but that would add extra pain for those remaining.

My Mum died a few years ago. She had a full life and was much loved. She knew both these things. She was frail and her life had dwindled so much, in that she rarely left her home. I recognised, when she died, that she was exhausted (she died of multiple organ failure). I also recognised that my sorrow was for me, not her. There is nothing wrong with that, but it felt important to me to acknowledge that fact, if only to myself.

More recently, a dear friend died. For different reasons (in this case, because they were now out of pain), I again noted that my years were for me and the family of my friend.

As I said, you go on, because you must to spare those you love from further pain

Both my parents have died. Yes, I really miss them, but as PPs have said, their dying was part of the cycle of life....

I am just so grateful that they were my parents and such a wonderful part of my life. I treasure this rather than just focusing on the fact that they are no longer here....

OP - you exist for about a year, then you realise that life is not completely consumed by your grief and you are on a new plane.

When the second one dis you are prepared for the pain and in some ways it seems less but then you realise that your family is no longer and that brings with it a different sadness.
I am half way through the latter - your parents would want you to live life to the full, they brought you up for that.

it's a year next week that my mum died after a short but exhausting time. She had a stroke whivh took her memory and strength and became quite different for three months. She was in a fog of the past with occasional flashes of clarity and it was very hard. By the end of three months we knew she would die soon but it was still devastating. I don't really remember how I got through that time and after and I still miss her so very much. However, she was almost 90 and hadn't been happy for a long time so I am also ok with it in a painful way. It's nothing like I expected but everything I expected if that makes sense.