Release From Grief: One Year After Mom’s Passing

This past Mother’s Day was bitter-sweet. We headed to Orlando for the day to celebrate the one-year birthday of one of Melanie’s friends. The celebration was in a backyard with about 20 adults and children without masks, most of whom had been vaccinated. It almost felt normal. People were seeing my daughter Evelyn for the first time. Most people say she looks like Melanie. But there are a few who say she looks like my mom, Nida.

 

Last year for Mother’s Day I found myself playing my violin for my Mother with her eyes closed in a hospital ICU bed at MD Anderson in Texas. She would die a few days later. For Mother’s Day this year I was celebrating the life of a woman who gave birth to my daughter. This same daughter who in fact looks like my mother.

Mom is gone.

Yet her continual presence is now made manifest through the face of my child.

It’s almost like she never left.

My ever talkative three-year-old son turns mute when in public. His engaging charm in private is nowhere to be found when others are around.

Not true with Evelyn. She waves hi and bye to strangers. Evelyn walks up to strangers at church while Joshua pulls at her arm to prevent such interaction. He’s protective. Her friendliness – another reminder of my Mom – and Joshua’s cautiousness usually lead to a sibling altercation. Both of them crying on the floor.

On Grief

Grief is a subconscious event that arises suddenly. It gets you when you are mostly unaware, usually a mundane experience. One night I was comforting Joshua. He was crying for his mommy who couldn’t attend to him because of the needs of his sister. Joshua cried Mommy over and over again. For a moment I could sense a deep ache he had to be in the presence of his mother. That triggered me.

Grief also communicates all sorts of mixed images. During Mom’s final week I had sensed that after 3 weeks in the ICU our attempts were futile. I was the only family member by bedside but now had to leave so Dad could be at the bedside. Once I left I was told I could never come back.

With only two hours left, I pleaded with Mom to let go. I told her she was an incredible woman who had lead an incredible life. But it was now time. I promised her I would take care of Dad, Uncle Joel and Auntie Betty. Her eyes remained wide open. The tube in her mouth rendered her speechless. I had no idea how she felt.

When we met as a family I advocated we let her go. And we did.

Today, I suffer from the guilt of that decision.

Did I cause my Mom to die?

My mind knows better. But somewhere in my heart I am condemned.

Grief communicates all sorts of mixed messages.

Every month on the 12th, I have visited Mom’s grave. One year later I still grieve her loss.

It’s better. But it still hurts.

Grief is a manifestation of the love you had for a person. At the risk of stating the obvious, this love runs deep.

And yet I know Mom wouldn’t want me to remain in this grief-stricken state. Rather, she would want me to apply my energies to making a difference and building up my community.

So on this one year anniversary, this is my prayer:

Dear Heavenly Father, Release me from grief. And thank you for my Mother.