Blog post - Middle-aged orphan

It will be my mother’s birthday on Saturday. When I have been in shops I have looked at cards and thought “that would be a good card for Charmaine.” Then I have stopped and remembered that she isn’t here anymore.

I have found that this is one of the aspects of losing someone that hits me hardest - birthdays and Christmases. Not buying the cards and the gifts. Not receiving any. The realisation that it will never happen again.

My father died in December 2015. I have made sure that I have something to distract me on the dates that make me sad - his birthday, the anniversary of his death. A night out at the theatre or a meal with friends. I won’t get the opportunity this year. I won’t get a distraction from my mother’s birthday.

This is just one more distressing part of our current situation. Many of the usual avenues that help people grieve have been cut off. The joining together at a funeral or memorial service. Being able to throw yourself into your work, exercise, seeing friends, hobbies.

I have been making things. Being creative helps me. I have knitted a lot of stuff, made face masks, had fabric printed to make lampshades and cushion covers. I am also very fortunate to have several streaming services with all their content.

Of course I still find myself watching things that remind me of my parents, listening to music and radio shows that they introduced me to. It doesn’t matter that I am in my 50s. The loss of both parents sets you adrift at any age. Even though I no longer spent much time with them knowing they were there was something. There would still be time to work through our unresolved issues, to square away our untidy emotional baggage, tie a nice ribbon on our relationship and say a fond farewell.

But that is not how life works. Sometimes you have to accept that there will be no closure and that you are now at the front of the mortality queue.

I know that I will still get sad sometimes. I will burst into tears because I have heard a certain song or even seen my mother’s favourite sweets in the corner shop. So I will have a good cry, get it all out and then think of a happy thing that we shared. I will smile and then I will move on.