Grief

 

You’d think I’d be an old hand at grief by now.

 

My mother, who passed away in 2009, spent the last months of her life on hospice in our home. She had many difficult times throughout her life. She raised six children during challenging financial circumstances. As I mentioned in a previous post, her marriage to my father was not easy. She didn’t drive and depended on him a great deal. At the time, I didn’t understand how hard it must have been for her when he passed away.

 

My son, Joe, passed away 16 years ago from colon cancer. He was 34 years old—newly married, with their first child on the way when he was diagnosed. I have written through this loss for 16 years.

 

Ross was a magical time in my life. I have written hundreds and hundreds of words about this amazing man. In 2019, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I was his caregiver until he passed away in 2024.

 

Of course, there have been other losses. They are all sad, each in its own way. None can be compared to another.

 

Needless to say, my son’s passing probably hit me the hardest.

 

Now that I am a widow, though, I have gained an enormous amount of understanding, compassion, and respect for my mother. I feel her presence every day now. It’s as if she is here, supporting me as only a mother can.