The losses came quickly for me. My Dad, the rock of our family, had gone into the hospital with swelling in his legs and pain in his hip. At most, we thought that they would say that his heart disease had worsened and that he needed his other hip to be replaced. What we didn’t expect, was the diagnosis: metastatic cancer with only a couple of weeks to live.
What came next was a very quick decline, and a much-too-quick death. Then, only 3 weeks later, my Mother had a massive heart attack and died. I remember my brother calling me on the phone, and me screaming and collapsing, sobbing. The final loss was the sale of my childhood home, only 3 months after the death of my mother.
So, what is it like to have no parents, no childhood home, no base to go back to? Disorienting.
My Mother had Alzheimer’s disease, so over the last 10 years, I had steadily become much closer to my Dad. I used to call him every couple of days, just to chat about nothing in particular. And when I did need advice, he was always there. The longing that I still have, almost daily, to pick up the phone and talk to him, takes away my breath sometimes.
Although both of my brothers live in my childhood hometown, I truly don’t know if I’ll ever return to the place. I honestly don’t know if I could stand to drive by that house and be able to handle it. And, both my brothers live on the same road as the house, so I wouldn’t have much a choice, if I decided to visit them.
These are some of the things that I’ve been thinking about that I now miss:
- A place to gather for the holidays.
- That special love that a parent has, that loves you unconditionally, no matter how much an idiot you’ve been acting.
- Someone to talk to about major purchases and give you advice, like when you buy a new home.
- Someone that you can call and just blather on about nothing, and they’re still happy to hear your voice.
- Someone to mediate and to help you see the good parts of your siblings, when all you can think about is your anger.
- Someplace that holds decades worth of memories, both good and bad.
- Someone that can remember how you’re related to what’s-her-name in Illinois.
- Someone that remembers your birth, and will sing to in that voice you’ve always known, Happy Birthday.
As you can see, I titled my piece losing your childhood, and that’s really the crux of it. I am now the grown-up and part of the oldest generation of my family. My nieces and nephews are married, and will soon be having babies of their own.
I don’t feel ready. I still feel too young to be the oldest generation. It does make me wonder though, how my own parents felt, when this same thing happened to them. Did they feel prepared? Or were they feeling just as lost as I do?
