Losing both of my parents in the past 18 months has opened up so many questions about them as people, about their role in our relationship, about how to forgive them. But I've found recently, during a wave of delayed grief, that something else is happening; questions are opening about me, about my own sense of self, about what I need to forgive myself for, about how well I understand my part in these relationships.
I can feel my mind opening in a way that is uncomfortable. In some ways, it feels embarrassing to still be asking, “Who am I?” at 72. In others, it feels good. I may be older, but I am not set in my ways or my thoughts, yet. I’m rethinking my anger and resentment about how my parents misunderstood and misjudged me; my reactions definitely played a part. I’m opening to new ways of seeing my role in my family; I was the outsider, the different one, by my own actions. As my self-concept is changing, the floor beneath me feels like it’s shifting. Which leads me to…
MY QUESTION FOR YOU: How has grief opened questions about yourself and changed your own self-concept? Have you struggled to forgive not just the person who died, but also yourself?
My grown daughter visited this week with our former neighbors, who bought the house we lived in for 30 years. She sent us photos. We’ve been gone for 7 years but the grief hit me. This was where we raised our 3 daughters. This was home. Home grief is real.
Oh yes. When we left our little house in Vancouver, I stood in the empty living room by myself, and I felt like I was saying good-bye to a person. There was nothing particularly special about that house, just everything about that house. It's been almost 30 years since that day, and I can still feel how I felt that day.
I’m about to post about an essay about this. Greif changed everything, made me realize my time was limited, emboldened me to put myself out there again, to create, to tell my self doubt to fuck off because I’d be dead soon anyway, might as well express myself, live my life.
Tell self doubt to fuck off? Well, I'm not sure mine would. I seem to have a weird variation of self doubt that says, you MUST NOT be too successful. Seeing as I don't really know how much is too successful, I err on the side of never going too close to that line. Whatta piss off!
Well I guess it’s always there but instead of letting the tiniest negative thing deter me I’ve decided to put myself out there anyway. But yes always a battle
Oh, this one really hit home for me. My birth mother, with whom I have had a challenging relationship since we met when I was 17, passed away in July. She was the last of my NINE parents (birth, adoptive, step, in-laws) to die in the last few years.
I have been grappling with my role as a daughter in all of these disjointed and dysfunctional relationships. As the obvious outsider growing up, I am now seeing more clearly my role as the one who, by my very nature, provoked and unnerved everyone around me! Unlike my adoptive family, I was restless, wanting to see more and do more in the world. My presence was a thorn in the side of those who were either too fearful or complacent to embrace change. Living abroad in five countries, traveling extensively, and becoming a change strategist suits me perfectl, but is something they could not comprehend!
And yes,I face both anger toward her and guilt for my own role, but I am also feeling that shift below my feet. Though I am still busy wrestling with financial details as Executor, it's the complexity of emotions that is the most exhausting.
It all feels heavy now, but I see a glimmer of the lightness ahead. I will be standing strong again, facing my new direction, and feeling (even more) gratitude for all I have been through and learned! Thank you so much for asking this question.
Lots for me to think about while preparing a reply to your question. My dad died of cancer complications on Nov 6, 2012, shortly after votting for Obama's re-election, one of the last things he did. My mom followed in his wake 25 months later. Lots of mixed feelings about their absence. I miss them and I'm relieved that they're gone at the same time. So, lots to unpack!
Hi Debbie, what you wrote above really resonated with me. I lost my parents within six months of each other last year and have been writing about grief, loss and the effects on self on my own substack Fifty Thrive. I've most definitely been on my own personal journey through grief in which I was surprised just how much I started to question myself - who I am now and how I'd grown through this experience. No longer a child or daughter and with no children myself, I've been asking myself who am I and what's my role. In some ways I feel like finally at the age of 55 that I've become a fully-fledged adult through this process. It's still work in progress but I know what you mean, it does feel intriguing and enlightening to explore the self outside of the labels of child / daughter after we've been wearing them all our lives! Thanks for writing about this...and happy to share a link to my substack where I delve more into this.
Don't worry about asking "Who Am I" at 72. That never stops. I'm still trying to figure it out at 84! I lost both my parents before I was 40 and often wished I could have had a relationship with them in later years when we were all adults....by which I mean, past the years when the relationship was rife with my teenage rebellion, and then 20s anxst etc etc. I feel I have missed out.
I started my Substack, What to Believe, to serialize the memoir I wrote about my struggle to accept that my dad's death (when I was 13) had been a suicide and not an accident, as my mother insisted. The result was delayed grief and massive denial: when I finally learned the truth (nine years later), I couldn't bring myself to believe it. It took years before I made peace with it. And when Mom died, I didn't get to grieve her death normally, either. And by normal, I mean at the time it happened, and on my own schedule, which was rendered an impossibility because two weeks after she died, my then 20-year-old son wound up in a psychiatric hospital. I'd known he was depressed but I hadn't realized he was suicidal and had tried multiple times to kill himself. I'd been too wrapped up in my mother dying to pay close attention. And once he wound up in the hospital, I had no energy to think about or mourn Mom. (I'm writing about that on my Substack, now that I've finished serializing the memoir.) I'm interested in reading about your experiences.
My kids live across country. I feel deep grief whenever I say Goodbye to them after a visit. We will move next year to be closer to them. I can't wait. (I wrote about this.)
Meanwhile, hubby lost his parents and sister many years ago. My parents are elderly but still "fine." I've been sympathetic to hubby's grief all these years and I can't imagine the permanent hole in his heart from losing them all when they were so young. (His sister was 27, his mom was 50 and dad passed 22 years ago at 69.)
I’m 49 and lost my dad last September 29th to a horrific battle with cancer. Grief was-up until a few months ago-gut punching, constant waves of sadness. Then those waves seem to calm down and only rise up a few days a week, then a few times a month. As I get closer to the 1 year mark, I have more questions and “what ifs” and frustrations but also some level of acceptance. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross was right about how we cycle through the stages of grief, never really completing a stage.
I’m writing about this now, having lost my best friend at age 45 last year, and now being a mom and not getting to share that experience with her. I think what’s surprised me is that just when I think I’ve made peace with her death I find myself sad and angry and helpless all over again. But talking to people who were close to her and hearing stories about her helps a lot. Grief is definitely strange and unpredictable. Wishing peacefulness to you and everyone else grappling with grief.
Grief. My father died when I was 18. The same week I was supposed to begin my freshman year at college. I had to postpone getting to college to attend my father's funeral. As you can imagine, it was horrific. When I got there, the 2 other roommates had bonded and I was third person out. Horribly awful, but the girls across the hall needed another roommate and at quarter break, I made the break and roomed with them. Still friends with one of them today. My mom's death was sudden, I was 28 by this time, and kind of cruising along, not using my degree. Easy jobs. So her death really changed my self-concept, as in "What the heck are you doing?" I was 28 after all and still not taking life seriously. I left my boyfriend of 5 years, moved to San Francisco, and got a job in publishing (I have a journalism degree). In other words, I stepped up. Her death shook me out of my ennui. I too was the black sheep of the family—after my father died it was easier to be a free spirit (it was the 70s). I could have never defied him, but sadly, I did defy my mom. I'd told my aunt once long ago I was sorry I'd caused her so many problems, and my aunt said, She would have been proud of you. So I put my questions about all to rest after that. But yes, grief is a real life changer--it makes you question everything Debbie. And to lose both within 18 months, very tough. Thinking of you.
Yes - and highly recommend Hope Edelman's Motherless Daughters. I have re-read so many times. She has collected vats of personal stories, adding her own considerable wisdom to the mix. My parents died when I was 15 and 17, nearly 50 years ago. I sometimes think that my entire life has been spent haunted by unknowns, what ifs and most of all, questing.
Thank you, Sue. I know that book! Ironic that I "had" my parents til I was 71, but still have so many questions without answers, the "unknowns" that you refer to.
When my mom (a malignant narcissist) died, I felt only relief that I would never have to deal with her again. I turned all my attention to rebuilding a relationship with my father and was grateful that I could do so. When he died, I was sad - of course - but also happy that in his waning years, we were able to recapture our father/daughter relationship and my kids can remember their "Pata" with love.
My brother died August 28th this year - he was 66, young by modern standards (or at least in my standards). I'm still reeling a bit from this because it was unexpected.
When my parents died (1997 and 2013), I did not have this same reaction. There were regrets and loss, of course. But my brother was only two years older. I am feeling now that I must get all my affairs in order (or shit together) and really live each day. Make my presence felt to all those that I love.
Oof. Your question and reflections go straight to my heart, Debbie. As I approach 50, I feel profound grief around my parents, my sisters, and our relationships. Within this grief, I’ve discovered more whole-hearted forgiveness than I imagined possible. But I have yet to extend that forgiveness to myself.
All the hearts to you, on your own path with it all.
![[B]OLD AGE with Debbie Weil](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/e_trim:10:white/e_trim:10:transparent/h_72,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fb939748d-5d80-4d0f-867c-2ed252ac633c_1344x256.png)
My grown daughter visited this week with our former neighbors, who bought the house we lived in for 30 years. She sent us photos. We’ve been gone for 7 years but the grief hit me. This was where we raised our 3 daughters. This was home. Home grief is real.
Oh yes. When we left our little house in Vancouver, I stood in the empty living room by myself, and I felt like I was saying good-bye to a person. There was nothing particularly special about that house, just everything about that house. It's been almost 30 years since that day, and I can still feel how I felt that day.
I’m about to post about an essay about this. Greif changed everything, made me realize my time was limited, emboldened me to put myself out there again, to create, to tell my self doubt to fuck off because I’d be dead soon anyway, might as well express myself, live my life.
Tell self doubt to fuck off? Well, I'm not sure mine would. I seem to have a weird variation of self doubt that says, you MUST NOT be too successful. Seeing as I don't really know how much is too successful, I err on the side of never going too close to that line. Whatta piss off!
Well I guess it’s always there but instead of letting the tiniest negative thing deter me I’ve decided to put myself out there anyway. But yes always a battle
Oh, this one really hit home for me. My birth mother, with whom I have had a challenging relationship since we met when I was 17, passed away in July. She was the last of my NINE parents (birth, adoptive, step, in-laws) to die in the last few years.
I have been grappling with my role as a daughter in all of these disjointed and dysfunctional relationships. As the obvious outsider growing up, I am now seeing more clearly my role as the one who, by my very nature, provoked and unnerved everyone around me! Unlike my adoptive family, I was restless, wanting to see more and do more in the world. My presence was a thorn in the side of those who were either too fearful or complacent to embrace change. Living abroad in five countries, traveling extensively, and becoming a change strategist suits me perfectl, but is something they could not comprehend!
And yes,I face both anger toward her and guilt for my own role, but I am also feeling that shift below my feet. Though I am still busy wrestling with financial details as Executor, it's the complexity of emotions that is the most exhausting.
It all feels heavy now, but I see a glimmer of the lightness ahead. I will be standing strong again, facing my new direction, and feeling (even more) gratitude for all I have been through and learned! Thank you so much for asking this question.
Lots for me to think about while preparing a reply to your question. My dad died of cancer complications on Nov 6, 2012, shortly after votting for Obama's re-election, one of the last things he did. My mom followed in his wake 25 months later. Lots of mixed feelings about their absence. I miss them and I'm relieved that they're gone at the same time. So, lots to unpack!
Hi Debbie, what you wrote above really resonated with me. I lost my parents within six months of each other last year and have been writing about grief, loss and the effects on self on my own substack Fifty Thrive. I've most definitely been on my own personal journey through grief in which I was surprised just how much I started to question myself - who I am now and how I'd grown through this experience. No longer a child or daughter and with no children myself, I've been asking myself who am I and what's my role. In some ways I feel like finally at the age of 55 that I've become a fully-fledged adult through this process. It's still work in progress but I know what you mean, it does feel intriguing and enlightening to explore the self outside of the labels of child / daughter after we've been wearing them all our lives! Thanks for writing about this...and happy to share a link to my substack where I delve more into this.
Still working on forgiving myself for not having any compassion. But, I was a child, just left confused.
Don't worry about asking "Who Am I" at 72. That never stops. I'm still trying to figure it out at 84! I lost both my parents before I was 40 and often wished I could have had a relationship with them in later years when we were all adults....by which I mean, past the years when the relationship was rife with my teenage rebellion, and then 20s anxst etc etc. I feel I have missed out.
I started my Substack, What to Believe, to serialize the memoir I wrote about my struggle to accept that my dad's death (when I was 13) had been a suicide and not an accident, as my mother insisted. The result was delayed grief and massive denial: when I finally learned the truth (nine years later), I couldn't bring myself to believe it. It took years before I made peace with it. And when Mom died, I didn't get to grieve her death normally, either. And by normal, I mean at the time it happened, and on my own schedule, which was rendered an impossibility because two weeks after she died, my then 20-year-old son wound up in a psychiatric hospital. I'd known he was depressed but I hadn't realized he was suicidal and had tried multiple times to kill himself. I'd been too wrapped up in my mother dying to pay close attention. And once he wound up in the hospital, I had no energy to think about or mourn Mom. (I'm writing about that on my Substack, now that I've finished serializing the memoir.) I'm interested in reading about your experiences.
My kids live across country. I feel deep grief whenever I say Goodbye to them after a visit. We will move next year to be closer to them. I can't wait. (I wrote about this.)
Meanwhile, hubby lost his parents and sister many years ago. My parents are elderly but still "fine." I've been sympathetic to hubby's grief all these years and I can't imagine the permanent hole in his heart from losing them all when they were so young. (His sister was 27, his mom was 50 and dad passed 22 years ago at 69.)
I’m 49 and lost my dad last September 29th to a horrific battle with cancer. Grief was-up until a few months ago-gut punching, constant waves of sadness. Then those waves seem to calm down and only rise up a few days a week, then a few times a month. As I get closer to the 1 year mark, I have more questions and “what ifs” and frustrations but also some level of acceptance. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross was right about how we cycle through the stages of grief, never really completing a stage.
I’m writing about this now, having lost my best friend at age 45 last year, and now being a mom and not getting to share that experience with her. I think what’s surprised me is that just when I think I’ve made peace with her death I find myself sad and angry and helpless all over again. But talking to people who were close to her and hearing stories about her helps a lot. Grief is definitely strange and unpredictable. Wishing peacefulness to you and everyone else grappling with grief.
Grief. My father died when I was 18. The same week I was supposed to begin my freshman year at college. I had to postpone getting to college to attend my father's funeral. As you can imagine, it was horrific. When I got there, the 2 other roommates had bonded and I was third person out. Horribly awful, but the girls across the hall needed another roommate and at quarter break, I made the break and roomed with them. Still friends with one of them today. My mom's death was sudden, I was 28 by this time, and kind of cruising along, not using my degree. Easy jobs. So her death really changed my self-concept, as in "What the heck are you doing?" I was 28 after all and still not taking life seriously. I left my boyfriend of 5 years, moved to San Francisco, and got a job in publishing (I have a journalism degree). In other words, I stepped up. Her death shook me out of my ennui. I too was the black sheep of the family—after my father died it was easier to be a free spirit (it was the 70s). I could have never defied him, but sadly, I did defy my mom. I'd told my aunt once long ago I was sorry I'd caused her so many problems, and my aunt said, She would have been proud of you. So I put my questions about all to rest after that. But yes, grief is a real life changer--it makes you question everything Debbie. And to lose both within 18 months, very tough. Thinking of you.
Yes - and highly recommend Hope Edelman's Motherless Daughters. I have re-read so many times. She has collected vats of personal stories, adding her own considerable wisdom to the mix. My parents died when I was 15 and 17, nearly 50 years ago. I sometimes think that my entire life has been spent haunted by unknowns, what ifs and most of all, questing.
Thank you, Sue. I know that book! Ironic that I "had" my parents til I was 71, but still have so many questions without answers, the "unknowns" that you refer to.
I think it's partly because we can't truly comprehend or interpret certain things till we become that age ourselves.
When my mom (a malignant narcissist) died, I felt only relief that I would never have to deal with her again. I turned all my attention to rebuilding a relationship with my father and was grateful that I could do so. When he died, I was sad - of course - but also happy that in his waning years, we were able to recapture our father/daughter relationship and my kids can remember their "Pata" with love.
Debbie,
Wow - timing on this is crazy.
My brother died August 28th this year - he was 66, young by modern standards (or at least in my standards). I'm still reeling a bit from this because it was unexpected.
When my parents died (1997 and 2013), I did not have this same reaction. There were regrets and loss, of course. But my brother was only two years older. I am feeling now that I must get all my affairs in order (or shit together) and really live each day. Make my presence felt to all those that I love.
My floor definitely shifted.
Thanks for this,
Vicki
Oof. Your question and reflections go straight to my heart, Debbie. As I approach 50, I feel profound grief around my parents, my sisters, and our relationships. Within this grief, I’ve discovered more whole-hearted forgiveness than I imagined possible. But I have yet to extend that forgiveness to myself.
All the hearts to you, on your own path with it all.