Just some things that came to mind after seeing things today.
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My classmate’s mom died earlier this morning. Facebook was filled with posts to her wall from people giving their condolences. Our class president then posted a note that our class would drop by my classmate’s place after class on Monday to give her support and stuff.
As I was scrolling down the messages and posts, I honestly couldn’t really help but feel somewhat apathetic. Everyone was so concerned, offering prayers, giving condolences, saying they’ll visit to give support, and so on.
She’ll be turning 17 in 6 days.
My mom died when I had just turned 6 years old, a few months before she passed away.
It got me thinking, for some unknown reason, about the following things I’m going to write about.
As I was reading through the messages, I wondered why is it that people are more concerned and struck by grief when the person’s parent who died is already much older? I don’t really remember hearing much about people giving 6 year old me support, since I was still very young, and I really needed a mom at that point. By the time people were saying “I’m sorry for your loss” to me, it was already way beyond the time that I actually cared anymore. The feeling of loss had numbed, and when we went to visit my mom’s grave last November 1, I just kind of stood there, not knowing what to do.
It’s not that I’m asking for pity because my classmate’s getting all this support and I didn’t. What I’m actually getting at is, loss is a heavy reality for anyone. But even if they don’t fully understand it, children are actually the ones that really need the support from family and friends. Because while they are still growing, that’s the vital time that they need their parents to at least have a balanced growth.
I mean, look at me, my mom passed away when I was 6, I grew up watching wrestling with my dad, tagging along while he played golf, played computer games with him; and now, I don’t even feel right, having a girl’s body. I can’t even talk to my dad about things I need a mom to talk to. And… honestly speaking, I don’t even really like my dad that much. My mom was always the voice of reason; when I asked if I could go over to my friend’s house to play and my dad would say no, my mom would always get him to say yes eventually.
At this point, I could say I really need a mom, given everything that’s been happening to me. My classmate had her mom through most of the tough parts of the teenage years, so at least she’s still a bit lucky that way.
I grew up, not having a mom to talk to, not wanting to talk to my dad about it, and both my older sisters were always too busy to talk to me, and I spent a lot of days, alone in this house. Now I find it hard to open up to anyone in the family except for my little sister, since she’s always around because she likes following me. I’ve had a step mom for a couple of years now, and I just know she’s very nice, and willing to talk to me about anything (…’cause I’m actually her favorite lololol), but I still find it hard to open up to her. It’s not only just because I grew up keeping to myself, but also because she’s usually in another country (she’s currently living in London, apparently).
But anyway, to those who’ll read this, if you’ve lost a parent (…or anyone, really), then I give you my condolences; if you still have both parents and stuff, then make the time you have with them count. Losing a parent can change a lot of things, in more ways than you think.
Well, maybe it’s because older people think that people need more support as they age because of the whole “when you’re older you understand more” thing. I don’t believe that.
My brother died when he was six. I was eight turning nine. During the wake, not very many adults paid attention to me, though I was very thankful that my parents took care to explain (as best as they could) the concept of death to me before taking me to the little chapel with my brother’s pajama-clad corpse in the tiny blue casket. I was in a haze for the most part, and only regained a bit of my emotion after he was cremated. I can’t express how relieved I am that my parents didn’t separate after that, or now either. I can’t imagine what it would be like not to have a mother, since I’m very close to mine (my dad’s in a kind of midlife crisis and cannot be talked to without a PMSing-like moment), but I do know what a void feels like. Losing someone younger than you is a lot more difficult to understand than losing a parent or an older sibling.
After my brother’s death, my mental state grew exponentially. It was like suddenly becoming an old person stuck in a kid’s body (actually, I still feel that way). I found myself spending a lot of time thinking about death, though not really my own. I tried imagining what it would feel like to lose my parents, or my friends. Yeah, SB’s included there.
I guess that’s why I’m always so paranoid about SB even if I look like I don’t care. It kills me (albeit slowly) to know that I can’t help, no matter how insignificantly. I don’t like the strain in the group.
I don’t know if I can help you with the mom thing, but I’d like you to know that I understand how you feel, even if it’s slightly different.
End long sappy comment. 😛
Woah, really long comment. XD
Yeah, I remember my aunt staying here for a few days, she got me a couple of children’s books that sort of… gently explained the concept of passing away.
…I re-read them recently, and they’re actually quite depressing. >>;;
“It was like suddenly becoming an old person stuck in a kid’s body”
>>In a sense, I think this could actually be sort of linked to your being so motherly. o_o Maybe it’s ’cause of the loss of your younger brother, that you feel subconsciously compelled to look out for the rest of us like your younger siblings.
…even though you show it like a mom. LOL!
I had books like that too. One of them was illustrated with oil paintings of a little girl asking her mom what “Your dog died” meant. o_o
Blah. When people die young they stay like that in people’s memories. I get older and older and I can’t imagine my brother getting older so it… yeah. There goes my mother streak. Maybe it’s also because my mom’s not really a motherly person.
Man, that WAS a long comment. o_o
*shakes fist at inability to reply to a reply*
One book also had oil painting-like illustrations, and one is a book about “Freddie the Leaf” and the pictures are really pretty. They show photographic pictures of this tree from spring, ’til winter, when the leaves die and fall. >>;;