10 Lessons I Learned After My Mom Died
10 Lessons I Learned The Year After My Mom Died:
I was most definitely not prepared, even though I thought I was.
I think when you have a loved one with a terminal illness—especially one that spans over years— you believe that you’re prepared for their passing. You know that it’s coming. And at a certain level, you are ready to feel at peace about it. You see them suffering and you don’t want them to endure that anymore. I was “prepared” for many years that my mom was going to die, and in some ways I felt lucky for how long that we had with her. I thought we had 2 years, and it turned out we had 4. Still, nope, wasn’t at all prepared for her absence and the year of grief ahead of me.
Grief can make you feel numb and forgetful.
It’s hard to even remember the first few days, weeks and even months after my mom died. I remember moments in flashes. I recently looked back at old texts and cards I received after her passing and it feels like I’m reading them for the first time. My brain was on overload, and I don’t think I was able to process everything going on around me. I literally felt like I was in a fog - and of course, being that my mom had a neurodegenerative disease I started thinking, wait is that what is happening to me? My mind just did not feel right. I had no idea that “grief fog” was a thing.
The days leading up to holidays/important dates can feel worse than the days themselves.
Maybe this is just a “me thing”, but I found that for many of the “first” holidays — Mother’s Day, Greek Easter, Her Birthday, all felt worse before the actual date. Something about the anticipation of it had me in a tailspin and I found myself having some low moments and really good cries (but more on that in a minute).
Grief hits you at any time, any place, and often times without ANY warning. Grief is a SAVAGE.
This is best described by the kindest man at my dad’s church — he told me after my mom’s 40 day memorial something along the lines of “Grief is unpredictable - sometimes the anniversaries aren’t the days that it hits you - sometimes you’re just driving down the road and song comes on the radio and BAM you’re feeling it.” Oh my goodness, I felt so seen when he said that! Also side note: No one wants to talk about grief. So that was lovely that he shared that with me. He was a grief veteran - lost his wife to cancer 10 years prior. He is a gem.
No one (mostly no one) wants to talk about grief, but man is it powerful when they do.
First I want to say that if you are new to Remember Me, one of our main missions is to normalize grief—because WOW, people freak out when you bring it up. I know it is uncomfortable, but when I have been able to connect with people that have experienced grief like mine, it’s like we are instantly best friends. It is SO validating when someone understands your grief and allows you to feel it… one thing that David Kessler (literally my grief guru - he doesn’t know me, but I’m manifesting that he soon will) talks about is that we want our grief to be WITNESSED. YES.
My memories of who my mom was “before” came back sooner than I thought.
So this was a big fear that I had. My mom had changed so much as a result of her FTD, and having the primary progressive aphasia variant, the last several years of her life she was completely nonverbal. I had a fear (a guilty fear?) that I would not be able to remember my mom the way she was “before”…but for me, this all came back instantly. Maybe it was because of Remember Me? I’m not sure. But as soon as she died, I kind of felt like she was my mom again. I think people going through this type of situation may understand what I mean by that.
Remember Me/Advocacy is my calling.
Some very well-meaning friends questioned if I was okay to keep going with the podcast after my mom died. I felt so raw and destroyed by my grief (I know this sounds dramatic, but it is pretty accurate, sorry!)… that I understand why they were concerned about it. I did ask myself the same thing and I asked Rachael too (for those of you who don’t know - Rachael’s father Frank died 1 month before my mom, in the middle of us producing our first season of Remember Me). The resounding answer in my gut was: you need to do this MORE now…FULL FORCE… this is your calling. Period.
Children are incredibly resilient, perceptive and empathetic. Even at a young age. Wow.
I was SO worried and afraid of how my son would be effected by all of this: having a nonverbal grandma, seeing her always cared for by his Papou, then seeing Papou without her, having her seemingly disappear, and seeing his mom crying unexplainably at times.
I just did not know how this was going to play out and often felt so afraid. I’m lucky for the tribe I had/have around me (including the pediatrician who called me after hours one night to talk through how to explain death to a 2 year old).
One of the most surprising and inspiring parts of everything with Liam was realizing his deep connection with my mom. I had never realized quite how invested he was in her. It was beautiful to see that he understood so much about her. In their short time together she had made quite an impression on him. Many have told me that is a testament to me and how I made her a big part of his life. But honestly, I believe it is a testament to my mom — her love, her energy, her spirit — and her ability to convey her love even when she was ill and unable to speak.You have to feel it to heal it. And you need to tell people how you feel, too.
Even when I tried to bury my grief deep down this year, it always came and reared it’s ugly head. When I tried to pretend I was okay when I wasn’t, it always came back to bite me. You truly need to feel it. If you’re in this place, let yourself feel it, ok? I believe the emotions, the grief, it has a purpose and a process and you need to let it do its thing.
And the second piece to this is that you need to voice what you’re feeling. It is so hard to get the words out when your mind is jumbled and you’re overwhelmed and grieving… but I just kept pushing myself to do it. I cried uncontrollably on the phone to friends. I broke down at Thanksgiving Dinner (True). I told a librarian (I really did). I told the movers. The contractor painting our house. I just let it be known. Even when I looked a bit nuts.
In the beginning months I told my husband that I felt like every day I was like a car starting on a half tank of gas… and I was on E half way through the day. I just didn’t feel like I’d ever start the day full. But little by little, I got some energy back. My grief is not gone (nor will it ever be).. but it is more manageable now. I’ve learned a lot about it, kind of studied it in a way, so I know how to carry it (most days). I’ve continually voiced to my friends and family how I feel so they can help me carry it too.
She’s never really gone.
I feel my mom with me every single day. I didn’t know that I would feel that way, but I’m so glad I do.
I can hear her voice in my head.
Sometimes I have a dream where she’s holding my hand and my heart just feels like it could burst I feel so much love, and I wake up and I swear it’s her.
She’s with me, I believe it.
Grief is an absolute journey, and I’ll be on it for the rest of my life. I’ll always share how I feel and what I learn in the hopes it can help someone else… and I will always look for the good, and always push to move my life forward and live a life that would make my mama proud.
xx M
