How do I tell this story?

On February 4, 1993, my mother passed away.

In about two weeks it will be the 20th anniversary of that event. I find writing cathartic and I’m trying to figure out what to write. About a week ago, I buried one of my closest aunt’s and the event struck me in that one of the most jarring things about death is that “life goes on”. None of my children ever met my mother, my wife didn’t, and I only have a handful of friends who knew her. That life continues to move minute by minute and day by day makes me sadder each day but more accepting at the same time. It’s like a paradoxical tug on my mind between the understanding that each day her memory fades from the earth a little more and the puzzling peace that comes from knowing time is simply something I cannot control so there's no need to try.

I have thought about my mother each day between that moment and today. Currently, that’s 7,233 days and counting. For some reason that makes me feel strange, thinking about someone who died every day for that long. And then I think about my friends and family who have had their mother’s in their lives for each of those days between then and now. It’s very likely I am no different in my thoughts of my mother as they think on theirs – the only difference being she is no longer walking on the earth.

And as you read this, you probably can infer the internal struggle that continues to this day and I suspect shall continue until I join her in peace. Still, I desire to write something for that day that captures my thoughts and feelings but may be helpful to someone else. I’m not quite sure how to do that and figured I’d set it before a group of folks who don’t know me in that light and perhaps you all can give me an idea I hadn’t considered.

Thanks,
Don

Oh, that just brought tears to my eyes. I lost my mother 13 years ago and I completely understand. When I think of her, sometimes it's memories, but sometimes it is more in the present - comparing what I'm saying to what she would have said, or doing something a certain way because she used to. Since my kids were all little when she died, I like to tell them stories about her, so they can understand what she was like and how that influences the way we are.

Thanks for commenting GBM. Unfortunately, you know exactly how I'm feeling. I've struggled for years with trying to convey what I'm feeling to those that don't understand in hopes that they could gain an understanding before it's too late.

I've never been very successful at it. Storytelling does seem to be a good way to do it.

That's such a difficult thing for me to relate to - my disowning of my biological father was a mostly voluntary thing (although the things that lead to it of course weren't). I guess one way to think about it is...what would she think of anything you did to remember the date? Would she have wanted you to have celebrated the good times you had with her, or sat back and reflected, or some combination?

I'm not sure - it feels very intrusive and callous to even think about it, as an outsider. From here, I think a really important thing is to be happy with whatever you choose. There's no point in doing something because we all say you should - when that's not really want to do. It's your mum, not ours, and we ultimately, don't know you that well.

punk d:

Thanks for commenting GBM. Unfortunately, you know exactly how I'm feeling. I've struggled for years with trying to convey what I'm feeling to those that don't understand in hopes that they could gain an understanding before it's too late.

I've never been very successful at it. Storytelling does seem to be a good way to do it.

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I lost my mother halfway through university in 2004, before I turned 21. She had passed away two weeks after turning 49....

It's never easy. Still isn't. Her anniversary will be coming up this March.

I know you and I haven't seen each other eye to eye, but if you wish to talk to me you can TG me or query me on IRC.

Abbey - in Real Life, Don tends to be one of the more open people about personal things that I know. In this game, I've only opened up to a few people - intentionally. From a game perspective, I've seen too many people use their RL situations for advantages be it girls trying to get unsuspecting boys to follow them or guys pretending to have conditions in order to leverage the sympathy. I don't play that game at all. At. All.

I come to this game because I like trying out being ruthless, which I am not in RL. I like seeing how people play politically so than in RL I can detect those same traits and be able to effectively navigate those positions. This game has helped a lot in that regard.

In this case, I decided to let down the guard in an area for me, like I said, is cathartic for me to write about. I felt as though asking random strangers about it could give me a truly unfiltered and objective view on the subject since I've not been able to obtain such a perspective in my circle of friends. So whatever you have to offer is fine by me and appreciated.

GBM offered me something that might help me. We all have a concept of time and perhaps I can use that shared concept to try and convey a message. I'll try. Alas, one week to go. Twenty years, it doesn't get easier.

Wow, that was seriously amazing. You know if you cant manage to write a whole book you can try to maybe make a short film where actors tell your story. Of course you can change it op a bit and add more stuff to it, but it could be a way to express your emotion; visually.

Punk, at first when I read this, I didn't respond as I didn't know how to respond, or even understand what you are going through. However, on the 23rd of February, I received the shocking news that my Dad, aged only 46 had passed away. This was not expected for me, or for any member of my family.

I now face many things similar to what you have said. My Dad will never meet or know any of my children, and they will never know him. He will not be there in person, when I graduate University, when I get married, or for any of the milestones that my other siblings and members of my family face in the years to come. Especially hard, as my two sisters are still at school, and I worry that even their memories of him will fade or even disappear.

I'm finding this hard to comprehend. Simply because his passing was so unexpected, and I was hoping for at the very least another 40 years of memories and closeness with him, similar to what I had experienced thus far in my life. Not only that, I feel like other members of his family, are pressing upon myself and my brothers and sisters there expectations and demands about how things should go. I don't know how to deal with that. Just thought I'd share my thoughts here as this thread was dug up by another anyway.

As the executor of the will, I'm going to have to make some tough decisions about things, and I worry that my siblings and family won't understand why these decisions are made, or hate me for the decisions I make. My youngest sister doesn't understand why things can't be kept and held forever, as she is still in Primary school, and frankly doesn't understand how all of these things work. It's hard, and if I'm honest, I don't know really how to do with it. Besides taking each day at a time, and hoping that through constant discussion I can help them to understand things a little better.

That made me cry man. Really it did. I apologize in advance for the somewhat emotional response & ramble.

I'm struggling to write as I know what you're going through. My mom passed at 42 and it was not expected as well.

Something you said is something I heard from friends when I asked them the same question I posed to this board:

Punk, at first when I read this, I didn't respond as I didn't know how to respond, or even understand what you are going through.

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And that’s what I’ve struggled with for 20 years. See I don’t want anyone to feel what I felt that day but we’ll probably all feel it one day. My hope was to write something that could help someone prepare for it so that it’s not as hard for that person as it was for me. I ended up writing something quite lengthy but my wife talked me out of because she thought it was too personal and that it wouldn’t have the impact I wanted. I reread it and agreed.

I say all of that to say that no one will ever truly understand what you’re going through and in a way, that’s very lonely. At the same time, I’m fully convinced that people we lose live on through us and in that way we’re able to share with others pieces of those we’ve lost. I certainly had the same fears as you when my mother died as my youngest sister was 3. She’s 23 now and can’t remember Mom’s voice and any memory she has is hazy at best.

I can’t even imagine being the executor of the estate – a position you now find yourself in.

I will tell you this one thing in general, that I’ve come to hate. I hate “sorry for your loss comments”. It sounds bad, but I just do. It’s probably because I’ve heard it too often and it’s probably because I recall the months and years that passed with many of those folks who were sorry and didn’t remember months and years later…I rationally understand that I’m being a bit harsh in that assessment but emotionally it still hurts. Lots of folks were there in the days right after, but later it just didn’t happen. I hope that doesn’t happen to you, and I also hope that you don’t come to view “sorry for your loss comments” in the same vein I do.

Overall – I’m sorry you understand what I was trying to say here. I’m sorry that your dad won’t be around for the next 40 years as you’d hoped. But I hope the memory of him and all that he taught you lives on in you and your children. You are his legacy and that’s something his death can’t rob from you – it may be the only thing.

On Friday, 8 Mar. 2013, was my late mum's 57th birthday.

I lost her in 2004, when I was halfway through my university career. She just recently turned 49 at the time.

I remember coming back from a meeting with my project team for a software design class, and I was told she was in the hospital, and as soon as I could get a ride to the airport, I booked a medical emergency flight from the airport near my uni. to Philly, where she was hospitalised in a neuro-surgical intensive care unit. She had a really bad brain aneurysm, and apparently by the time I got there, her condition had went from a hopeful recovery, to a deteriorating, almost vegetative state, seeing her on a ventilator.

She had hopes for a recovery, with later help in the form of physical therapy, but she was taken away too soon. People tried to lie about it and cover it up, to a family that had some form of science or medical degree, especially my Dad, who had a Ph.D. and was in the pharma industry for the past 25 years. They miscommunicated to us (including informing an organ donor first before us about the official confirmation), and as a result that chance was taken away from mum, and she was officially declared dead on 24 Mar. 2004, two weeks after her 49th birthday.

There were consequences for the staff that screwed up, and we instituted many changes via a settlement that forced the hospital to undergo, including an annual patient safety lecture, so that no one else would go through the ordeal we went through.

My mum never lived to see my sister or myself graduate from our unis. in 2004 and 2007, respectively, or how successful we were in our first jobs after uni., or anything after that. She is, though, resting peacefully up in heaven with our dogs Max and Minnie, watching over us.

It's been nine years. At one point the pain was too great, combined with other pressures that I thought about ending it all. However, I realised soon after that near attempt that I need to live on for her, no matter what ordeals I go through, be it in NS or IRL. I have to press on because there are other people who need me, who do appreciate my company, and want me to succeed. I press on and strive to improve myself not just for them, but because my Mum wanted me to.

So to Punk D and mcmasterdonia, you have my condolences. I understand how you guys feel and if you want to talk, I'll be here.

Here we are, one year later. I can't believe it has been one year already. To some extent it feels like it was only yesterday that I received a visit at my work and received the dreadful news. On the other hand it feels like an eternity since we have last spoken. I was watching the video of my 8th birthday just to hear the familiar sound of his voice and his loud laugh.

When I was younger I never really believed that people meant it when they said that they thought of someone everyday. I realise now that it us very possible as I have been doing so for the last 365 days.

The journey hasn't been easy and it will be even more difficult in the months ahead. Many questions remain and some may never been answered. Thanks to those who have provided guidance or simply gave me the opportunity to talk. You know who you are.

Peace. On my phone but felt like sharing my thoughts, I apologise for the gravedig but it felt necessary.

I'm sorry I missed this when you posted McM.

It's a sad realization to be able to relate to thinking about someone everyday. But I bet you have found a greater appreciation of the everyday and that many things that were important, aren't so important anymore.

Be well and if I didn't write this before (probably did), your father lives on in you. On that day, 50 years from now and you look back at him and your own life, you'll realize that while his physical body left the earth, he continued to live through you. Doesn't bring him back, but I hope it brings a bit of comfort.