Grief Is For Lovers
Growing up, I always had a healthy relationship with death. Viewing it simply as a transition from one form to another . The circle of life.
Well , the universe said “hold my beer” as my 50 year old mother was diagnosed with dementia after suddenly losing all short term memories this past December.
These last few months I’ve been struggling to process this. Grieving a version of her that no longer exists. Grieving conversations we never finished . Grieving the relationship my 2 youngest sisters will possibly never have with our mother . & don’t get me started on the grandchildren.
When she sees me, she thinks I’m still pregnant, because I was pregnant right before the switch flipped. She comes up and rubs my belly and asks “boy or girl” .. I respond “boy.” And she smiles and says “I think it’s a girl” & my heart breaks just a little.
Moments later, not remembering the conversation we just had, she holds August & says “Hey pretty girl” .. I don’t correct her anymore. Just smile .
Our FaceTime conversations are now mostly just us staring at one another smiling & her telling me I look good with this childlike glow. I stopped calling her for a while , selfishly.
I’ve always been a “just rip the band aid off” kind of girl & this has tested that.
Transitions have always been abrupt for me. No time to prepare. No time to rest in the space between one world & another.
This is different.
And it’s challenged me to see things differently.
I’ve went from trying to fix things, spending hours until morning researching foods, supplements and other possible remedies for a reality I refused to accept. And while I don’t plan on quitting, I have had a shift in perspective & wanted to share . Not as an invitation to shift yours, just to share because it couldn’t have been more on time .
Everyone’s journey looks different. Some may come to abrupt ends, others will go through a slow withdrawal . . A preparation. For them? For you? Who knows .
I’ve began viewing dementia & Alzheimer’s as a form of ego death we can all wrap our brains around. After all , our memories are all we have that gives us identity & set us apart from one another .
With dementia, with Alzheimer’s.. the collection that we’ve carried from birth slowly begins to fade . Not as a form of punishment, but as a form of love. A detachment from the concerns of this world. Helping to ease the transition to another one.
My mother is a hoarder & she treated her memories no differently. Tangible ones & the ones that lived in the way she talked , cooked and laughed.
Always sharing a story with me , often traumatic memories from her childhood.
Something I definitely took for granted. I listened, held space & made note , but wished she’d just move on . Create new , lighter memories.. & sometimes I wondered if that’s what led us here.
For those that KNOW, the relationship I had with my mother has always been complex & has gotten better over the years, but the most interesting thing of this whole experience is that it left absolutely no room for animosity. As her memories faded, mine transformed & gained a new meaning . The way I viewed things shifted . It doesn’t matter anymore . I’ll never get the closure I was seeking & I’ve made peace with that .
Recently, I started connecting with her spirit . The essence of her being.
When I first started, there would be an interference. A dark energy that I couldn’t bypass without having an anxiety attack. At first , I stopped . Viewing that as a sign that something was wrong.
I let a few night pass before trying again.
I was able to make contact & that’s where I found peace .
and while writing this, I’ve just had another breakthrough.
There’s more I’d like to share, but for today I will stop here .
Until next time .. Thanks for sharing space with me.
-The Solflower
