Hi Tiny Butterfly,

I completely relate. My dad has Alzheimer’s and has been on a steady decline since his early 60s (He’s 75 now). It’s like watching a slow and painful death, I know.  The good news (I know right, how can there be good news) is that for me, going through it with him and watching the father I knew slowly disappear made me appreciate that seed of him that is always there, you know? Do you ever experience that with your mom? Over many years, gradually,  I let go of him as I remembered him all my life. I was forced to adapt to the person he is. And now, I really, truly, treasure those moments I have with him where he’s my dad again – they come like a flash, then they’re gone. And I’m ok with it, well not totally but I’ve accepted it I feel. My dad makes me appreciate life, every moment, because honestly one second he’s right there with me, and the next second he’s gone.

The whole thing is a process. I understand the anticipatory grief; maybe you’re worried about your health? But you can’t predict the future. We have to suffer in our lives to understand the pain of loss, and appreciate people when they are here. My dad has taught me that. You can only live right now. And you must!  Parents dying is a fact of life. Everyone experiences it–so please reach out whenever you want.

Also you’re doing an amazing job caring for your mother. Just remember that. So many people in this life have no one to care for them at all, and just by being there, loving her, is enough. Trust that she knows that, and is grateful for you .

Take it easy, tiny butterfly. Do something you enjoy today. Send you good vibes:)

Pink

Some time ago, I watched a short clip online where someone said, “Our life from 30 to 45 is when we come face to face with change. Someone we know is dying, someone we know is moving on. Death becomes something we have to start familiarizing ourselves with.” This statement has been on my mind because it rings strangely true. It’s not that death hasn’t occurred before the age of 30; rather, before that age, life is often filled with youthful pursuits and a different reality.

Twenty years ago, my grandpa passed away after suffering from his illness for less than a year. Eight years ago, my grandma passed away after battling a chronic illness for more than two decades. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that my only grandmother will soon leave me due to her illness. Isn’t that something that seems inevitable? This time, I feel the heaviness of grief—anticipatory grief.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve sat across from three different doctors who have told me how incurable her condition is and that she only has a couple of months to live. Maybe it’s the knowledge that her children have failed to visit her. It pains me to think that they have taken away her choice to know about her condition and how she could have spent her last moments in this world. The grief I feel is compounded by my realization of what I know and my inability to change that situation.

She will never learn the truth, while her children had already given up on her long before she had a chance to fight. I’m not sure if it’s grief or guilt I’m experiencing—guilt over what I could have done better. I know I could have acted differently, but I’ve convinced myself that excuses for her children’s actions justify my own inaction, even though deep down, I know that isn’t entirely true.

Sometimes, life takes unforeseen turns. It could happen to any of us—we are all vulnerable to the unpredictable nature of life. But how do we make sense of it when we grow up learning about right and wrong? Life seems cheap in this corner of the world; that much is true. How do we know what to do to get through this? Is it too much to ask for a single true note to guide us?

The person in the clip mentioned that “by the age of 50, we begin to accept that death is inevitable; perhaps we have come to embrace it.” This shift in perspective isn’t discussed enough. We often get so caught up in worrying about making enough money that we forget to consider the pain we might feel from someone else’s suffering. No matter how much we earn, a sense of security is merely an illusion.

I don’t fully understand how grief manifests in this stage of life, or how it will change over time, but I’m grateful to feel it, as it represents a love that has transcended. If I were to follow the path I envisioned in my twenties, I would never have believed I would make the choices I have made to do what is right. Because of this, I allow what truly matters to guide me through this phase of life, and perhaps, in the end, I will find peace with it. We cannot escape death; it is essential, as it gives life its meaning.

Hi Kyle

I’m sorry to hear about the deaths of your grandfather and grandmother, and that you have a terminal grandmother who will pass away soon. I can hear how much they all mean to you! ❤️

Thank you for sharing your thoughts. You’re very wise in welcoming your grief. It is true, without it there is no love. There is no right way to grieve, so please be gentle with yourself throughout the process. ❤️

It is a shame to hear that her children haven’t been involved in the process. Is there a story to that you would like to share?

It sounds like to me that you are trying your best and doing a good job to be there for your grandmother. Please remember to take care of yourself too. ❤️

As we age, well it seems to me that grief doesn’t get any easier. For people you love it always hurts. Along the way you find your reasons to keep going. There is a lot to live for. 😊