Losses and Gains
Posted on February 19, 2013
I don’t read the obituary column in our local paper, and I pay little attention to celebrity deaths. But I was very moved by the recent HNE blog by our new blogger Geezer about the death of his mother: I lost my mother the other day..
It was an excellent example of what a blog should be–personal and thought provoking. It immediately made me think of the period of time when I lost my own mother, much earlier in life, but with similar feelings. My mother had lung cancer and breast cancer that eventually metastasized. She went through seven years of treatment, relapses, remissions, recurrences. As a family we went through several cycles of hope and disillusionment that were very difficult, not just for my mother but for all of us. My mother never reached the stage of acceptance that might have allowed her an easier passage. She died a bitter, angry woman with no sense of closure or accommodation with death. Like Geezer, I experienced less of a feeling of loss than one of relief when my mother passed away. Like Geezer, I did not make it back in time for my mother’s passing, and like him I have regrets about that.
So what did I learn, what knowledge could I share with Geezer and others that might help them face similar trying circumstances? There’s the Buddhist mantra: “No regrets”, but that’s a tough one to live up to in one’s own life. Short of that high goal, what can we do as human beings to soften the pain of difficult life passages? Perhaps there’s another Buddhist maxim that is easier to accept and live out: “Forgive everyone.” As many self-help books will tell you, that process starts with oneself. Forgive yourself. Forgive others, yes, but forgive yourself first. You’re not a bad person. You didn’t mean to do bad things. You’re just a human being, and therefore flawed, imperfect, something short of a Buddha or a Christian saint! It’s okay. You’ll do better next time.
If I had it to do over again, would I have left the East Coast for the West Coast to start a new life, three months before my mother died? No. I would have waited. At the time, it was just too painful to watch her decline, and I had been through it too many times already. But the past can inform the future without haunting it. Now I am dealing with the advancing age of my father, who is still mentally sharp at 93 years of age, but is physically tottery and obviously within a few years at most of his own death. And I do feel that I am handling his transitions better now. I am visiting him more often. I am setting aside the resentful feelings that sometimes arise when I am with him, about his failings and mistakes as a father. I am hopeful that he will live out his life in reasonable health. I am resigned and accepting of the idea of his death. As painful as my mother’s death was those years ago, it is helping me to live in a better way now. I hope that Geezer and all who face similarly painful and difficult life events (and that’s just about all of us) can find their way to peace and acceptance