Amy Lu's View

My mom died 20 years ago today. She was 64. She died at a nursing home in Chippewa Falls, WI, approximately 10 weeks after she was diagnosed with colon cancer. She was very sick those entire 10 weeks and her death felt both drawn out and sudden.

I was in the room when she died, but I’d been in and out of her room that day and was actually sitting in the common area for the most of the time right before she died–the “death rattle” of her breathing was too hard for me to listen to for long. A staff member came to get me right before my mom died.

I wish I had known or understood when she died (and for many years afterwards) that it was “okay” to be devastated and completely messed up by her death. I wish I had known that grief is hard work and it’s a slow process that takes time and is never really done–although even now that I’m older and presumably wiser I’m still not willing to put in all the time and effort to really process what I need to. 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

I wish I knew how to share these experiences and learnings with friends dealing with the death of a parent without making their grief about me or seeming like I’m giving advice. I wish I knew how to be vulnerable and empathetic without creating an “Amy wants attention” moment.

I feel “cheated” out of years and years with my mother that I always expected to have, but I also feel relieved that I didn’t have to experience a long, slow decline in her physical or mental health, much less have her isolated in a care facility during this Pandemic. 

The most profound revelation I’ve had since my mom died is realizing the depth of loss over things I’ve missed out on with my mom. I’ve had 20 years of her NOT being here–not seeing any of my plays, not knowing all the pets we’ve had, not being mystified/worried by my running, not pretending that she always wanted to be vegetarian now that I am (more or less), not getting to know that I started playing drums again.

And how did 20 years go by? Yes, this makes me feel very old and disoriented. My mom has been dead so long that she entirely missed the era of social media. And I’m FIFTY–only 14 years younger than my mom was when she died. If I’m lucky and I live to a “reasonable” age I’ll have spent more of my life without my mom than with her.

So yes, grief is hard work and you’re never “over” the death of someone you love, but I also don’t want to wallow, and finding that balance is tricky for me. I’m think I’m still shying away from and dancing around all the hard feels about my mom’s death, but I’m also grateful that I’m basically an optmistic person and I’ve had the resiliency to carry on. And I want my experience of my mom’s memory to be weighted on the side of love and gratitude and laughter rather than sadness and anger. 

So today is a very BIG DEAL and an important milestone, and also just another day, full of mundane concerns and pleasures. I ran, did laundry, attended several work meetings (virtually, of course) and struggled with writing a report, ate more crackers than I intended, and am now drinking wine and bourbon. 

I don’t have a snappy way to end this post–not that I ever do, but I usually try. For the last 20 years, I have missed my mom every single day, and I keep hoping that loving and grieving her will make me a more wise and compassionate and present and loving person that lives and appreciates life and my friends and family to the fullest.

…and I keep falling short.

But I keep trying. So back to laundry (and wine and bourbon).