I haven't been on the forum for a while because I thought I was coping with my grief but really I was distracting myself with all the other things that I now have to do since mum died 3 months ago. I don't mean the 'usual formalities' these I seemed to sleep walk through and for the month before I got bereavement counselling I think I was only vaguely present in this world. Counselling helped considerable because my family (two brothers mentioned before) don't believe in expressing or sharing grief and for one of them it appears that losing mum has just been an event in his life which he has moved on from.
Talking to my counsellor allowed me to vent my anger, guilt, regret and finally love for not just my mum but also my dad who I lost thirty years ago. It helped me address the fact that during this period of grief my local council who own the flat I was living in with mum (her tenancy) have accepted me as a tenant but want me to move to a one bedroom property when one becomes available (so far two months and no sign) and working out how, although I worked my socks off helping mum and gave her much better care than the hospitals and care homes she ended up in (see earlier posts) to society I have been unemployed for five years and therefore a scivver. I tried to avoid visiting the job centre because of the stories I've heard about the attitude of their staff and have secured a job as a caregiver on a 0 hour contract which isn't going to pay the bills but at least it shows I am willing. In addition my mum's 15 year old dog is getting near to her end.
I say all the above because although I have been great duo to discuss all of the above with my counsellor and therefore kept sane I had a growing ache inside which was screaming for the one person who would have help, understood and comforted me, my wonderful mum who was taken from me by dementia and then totally through death. It was at this point that I discovered this book The Orphaned Adult by Alexander Levy. I flicked through and then got gripped and finished in two sittings.
You might not have experienced the same double edged words of comfort as I have. I have received the strong message from most people around me that I should be glad that mum is no longer suffering (i am) and that she lived a good and happy life (she did) but nothing of how it feels suddenly not having that one very important person on my side. The one person who shared my grief when dad died and talked about him on important anniversaries. The one person who knew when I was taking life too seriously or was in the wrong and the one person who knew how I ticked. I have been blessed with friends and loved and even had family once but they seem to have broken free but of all of them mum was the one who I knew was totally on my side no matter what. I lost this a little through dementia but there were still times when her smile, squeeze of the hand or simply replying I love you too the bond was still there and only broken through death. This book acknowledges this special relationship. It doesn't, as some people do and have, make a value statement of whether losing a parent is more important than any other loss or, indeed that the age you are when your last parent dies matters I just, for me anyway, reminded me why I feel so lonely even though I have any number of friends I can call. Why I feel I no longer belong to a family even though I have other family members more compassionate than my brothers. Basically, after three months of being numb, angry, guilty, regretful and distracted I finally have given myself permission to grief this very special person who will always be with me but I will never see again.
I thought it might be of help to someone else, hence the post after such a long time.
By the way, I'm finding being a caregiver difficult because it is bringing back too many memories so I guess I will have to go to the job centre after all. At least it's a first!
Talking to my counsellor allowed me to vent my anger, guilt, regret and finally love for not just my mum but also my dad who I lost thirty years ago. It helped me address the fact that during this period of grief my local council who own the flat I was living in with mum (her tenancy) have accepted me as a tenant but want me to move to a one bedroom property when one becomes available (so far two months and no sign) and working out how, although I worked my socks off helping mum and gave her much better care than the hospitals and care homes she ended up in (see earlier posts) to society I have been unemployed for five years and therefore a scivver. I tried to avoid visiting the job centre because of the stories I've heard about the attitude of their staff and have secured a job as a caregiver on a 0 hour contract which isn't going to pay the bills but at least it shows I am willing. In addition my mum's 15 year old dog is getting near to her end.
I say all the above because although I have been great duo to discuss all of the above with my counsellor and therefore kept sane I had a growing ache inside which was screaming for the one person who would have help, understood and comforted me, my wonderful mum who was taken from me by dementia and then totally through death. It was at this point that I discovered this book The Orphaned Adult by Alexander Levy. I flicked through and then got gripped and finished in two sittings.
You might not have experienced the same double edged words of comfort as I have. I have received the strong message from most people around me that I should be glad that mum is no longer suffering (i am) and that she lived a good and happy life (she did) but nothing of how it feels suddenly not having that one very important person on my side. The one person who shared my grief when dad died and talked about him on important anniversaries. The one person who knew when I was taking life too seriously or was in the wrong and the one person who knew how I ticked. I have been blessed with friends and loved and even had family once but they seem to have broken free but of all of them mum was the one who I knew was totally on my side no matter what. I lost this a little through dementia but there were still times when her smile, squeeze of the hand or simply replying I love you too the bond was still there and only broken through death. This book acknowledges this special relationship. It doesn't, as some people do and have, make a value statement of whether losing a parent is more important than any other loss or, indeed that the age you are when your last parent dies matters I just, for me anyway, reminded me why I feel so lonely even though I have any number of friends I can call. Why I feel I no longer belong to a family even though I have other family members more compassionate than my brothers. Basically, after three months of being numb, angry, guilty, regretful and distracted I finally have given myself permission to grief this very special person who will always be with me but I will never see again.
I thought it might be of help to someone else, hence the post after such a long time.
By the way, I'm finding being a caregiver difficult because it is bringing back too many memories so I guess I will have to go to the job centre after all. At least it's a first!
