I am gaining yet more respect for older folks. As I am aging and approaching my 65th birthday, I realize the high price we pay for getting older, and I am not referring to the physical challenges we face. So many losses are endured, it is hard to fathom.
It is expected that we will lose our parents – that is the life cycle. Some, like me, are lucky to have had them for much of my adult life. Dad died when I was 45 and Mom just passed. Others aren’t so fortunate, and it is painful no matter the age, but at least we understand that it is the natural order of things.
I think about my mom and the losses she endured as she got older. Her husband, her brother, sister, and best friend, not to mention other friends and family members. Yet she persevered, she maintained interests, she sought joy, she smiled a lot. She also didn’t back away from those who were ill – she was fully present for my dad, as well as others. I don’t think everyone is able to do that. Some might get bitter or shut down. How could you not want to insulate yourself?
Death is part of life. Maybe grieving is a constant, on some level. It is just part of the mix of emotions we experience all the time. It is the price of loving people. After all, if you protected yourself from loss, you would be depriving yourself of friendships and connections.
I imagine the reason for the death makes a difference in how one processes it. All the losses that my mom faced in her later years came about because of disease. Our family has very limited recent experience with deaths due to violence, addiction, suicide, or an accident. Those bring a special pain – the kind that can permanently change the trajectory of the survivor’s life. We carry the generational pain of the Holocaust, but that is a different kind of grief, too.
There is a sort of joke that says no one gets out of this life alive. The truth is I have not made peace with that idea. I know it intellectually, but that doesn’t mean I have accepted it. I need to. It won’t change the anguish I feel when someone I love dies or is suffering, but maybe it will help me to not waste time asking why.
I can’t accept that God is making individual choices about who lives and who dies, or how they die. It just doesn’t make sense to me to believe that a higher power is invested in that, or would knowingly be so cruel, or has that detailed a plan. I suppose even if there is a God and even if s/he were making those decisions, we wouldn’t know the rationale anyway. It isn’t like good people don’t suffer and bad people do – it doesn’t work that way. So, either way, it may be best not to torture ourselves looking for an explanation for someone’s suffering or premature death. It just is and we need to move through it as best we can, becoming more compassionate toward each other knowing how hard life can be, and seeking joy, meaning and connection where we can find it. I think my mother and father-in-law, in particular, modeled how to do it. I will try to follow in their graceful footsteps.
Stories I Tell Myself 