It has been nearly 3 months since my Mother left this earth to spend eternity with her Heavenly Father. I’ve tried writing about her passing weekly and typically after a few hundred words I find myself tongue tied with stiff hands that can’t seem to plunk the correct keys to describe my emotions.
The first article I wrote I could only speak of the anger I felt towards the disease that slowly erased my hero’s memories. The second article, I could only stroke keys that spelled out words of sadness and confusion. The third, was a mixture of inspiration and confusion as I attempted to find the positive lessons buried beneath all this grief.
In the back of my head is a nagging voice telling me that all of you who have stopped me to share your own stories and pain deserve an update on the woman I have tried so desperately to immortalize with my keyboard. Quietly hoping that if I continued to share her stories and lessons, maybe, just maybe she wouldn’t leave me.
Not a week passes that I don’t meet someone who tells me they have read about my Mother. The warmth this provides my heart is indescribable and knowing that so many of you have spent time thinking of her releases a flood emotions that overshadows my inability to properly describe.
Internally my heart is raw with loss. While my faith provides the comfort of knowing that my Mother is no longer suffering, reality drags my attention and the sudden availability of time across a jagged and unforgiving ocean of heartbreak. Waves of grief smash upon the shorelines and break like china cups as my day-to-day life has silly moments of inspiration that remind me of what has been lost. Yet every couple days I see her and every single day I think of her.
4 days after my Mother took her last breath she appeared in the auditorium of Windham High School as I was delivering a motivational speech to students. While pontificating about the purpose of pain and the value of loss, my Mother cheered me on and laughed at every joke.
Two weeks later while speaking to a high school in northern Maine and sharing about the simple life changing decisions young people make while in the depths of despair or pressure, my Mother appeared in the corner - whispering, “This is what you’re meant to be doing.”
I haven't felt the stiff and partially removed hug of my Mother’s confused and wilting body for more than 90-days but just last week I felt her burn inside me as I shared a story of hope with an inmate who I was helping with job interview skills. The cliche’ nature of our new relationship has been torn from the script of a Hallmark Movie with the only thing missing being a happy ending.
I find myself suddenly very sensitive to people who take their parents for granted and with a jealous spite, I want to walk them to my mother’s gravesite and show them where we all wind up - underneath sunburned grass and dried out soil. For me, the grief is not about things left unsaid because anything I ever wanted to tell her I told her numerous times both when she was sick and when she was healthy. For me, the grief is purely selfish, self-serving, and just mine. I own it and am not sure I want to give it up - it’s all I have left of her.
This week while visiting my Father we talked about our loss. He was my Mother’s primary caregiver for the past 10 years which means just when his large home couldn’t get any more empty, with her passing, it has. We both shared the notion that it’s very weird to try and get used to being without her. For him, she was his purpose, his love, and his joy. For me, she was my inspiration, humor, and example.
The tragedy of death is not found when the person is slowly lowered into the Earth soon to become one with the soils and stones but, for me, the tragedy of my Mother’s death was the multiple times it happened. When Alzheimer’s chooses its victims they die multiple times - misleading the victims loved ones into thinking they will be stronger and more ready for when the person's physical body is no longer available to be held and spoken to.
My Mother first brushed death with the unforgettable phone call she made to tell me of her new affliction. She died again when I had to take her purse and count the change for her at a local garage sale. Again she passed a little when we slowly pushed her wheelchair into her first nursing home with the false hopes of her ever returning to her home, her cluttered craft room full of nearly completed projects, and loyal loving husband.
By the time her heart actually stopped I found myself selfishly wishing I was able to hear her tell me that she loved me just one more time, or even her sheepish grin to crack the now thinning colorless lips she breathed from. I take solace that the last words my Mother ever said to me, two weeks before she passed were, “This is my good man.” Likely the only full sentence she had said out loud for that entire week. Those words forever seared onto my heart.
I feel now my Mother would want everyone to know how much she appreciated your thoughts, your prayers, and your kindness towards my entire family. While Alzheimer’s tried to steal, smuggle, and hide away my mother’s ability to live - the lessons it taught me will hopefully provide inspiration and life to many in the future.
The actual fact is that my Mother is not the only person suffering from such a terrible disease and Alzheimer’s is simply one out of hundreds of diseases that slowly rob its victims of life and purpose. The lessons to be found in these diseases and losses are not easily discovered but as I continue my search one thing has become undeniably clear. Life is meant to be lived in the moment, good is meant to be done whenever possible, and love is meant to be given always - whether the recipient deserves it or not. If you're still breathing you still have a purpose and if you’re still able, you are meant to do.
We must honor who we’ve lost and who we are losing by choosing to care for others and not accept the urge to avoid those who are sick due to the discomfort it causes those of us who are healthy.
We were not placed on this planet to simply take up space or cast a single vote. I believe we were put here with a divine purpose to learn from our pain and share those lessons with others. It is undeniable that life will be tough at times and loss will be felt. But nothing can ever take away from the love we can always offer and the help we can lend. Our time is now to create memories and our time is now to lend a kind hand. We must honor who we’ve lost and who we are losing by choosing to care for others and not accept the urge to avoid those who are sick due to the discomfort it causes those of us who are healthy.
I close this, (the first of likely many articles that I will write during my grieving process) with something my Mother told me many times. “You were created with a purpose, you are so valuable, and don’t ever give up.”
David Pride is the owner of Social Impressions, a social media marketing agency that runs the social media marketing on behalf of their clients. When not busy with his current business, David speaks at schools and universities sharing how young people can prepare for and overcome long seasons of challenge and pain. Learn more at: David Pride Speaks