Yes…many of us will experience the surplus stage of life our forebearers did not, and the deaths of peers and loved ones will be a big part of that. Not only do we have the option of an “Encore” career in our lives, though. We will also have the chance to give back in a pre-planned, mindful way…that no previous generation has had.
May we do it with grace.

My mother is still alive at 85 and although she is incapacitated, the family is not sitting around grieving and waiting for her to pass away. Instead, we share stories of the past and thank God for the live she has led.

I lost my father to heart disease more than 20 years ago. The sting of his death has stayed with me but as I said before I choose to focus on what a wonferful dad I had and I love sharing some of the funny stories so it keeps positive images alive in my mind.

In the aftermath, I as the eldest child with a mother with dementia, tried to buck up and be the strong one. We had a beautiful memorial service and then I moved seamlessly, I thought, back into my corporate life; grieving with myself “by appointment”.

Six weeks out, I came home one evening and started crying about Dad. I cried for hours and just couldn’t seem to stop. Through my tears, I rationalized that I must be tired. I took a tranquilizer and laid down to try to sleep. Surely, I’d get a grip on the grief by morning.

When I woke up, it was like I never slept. I woke up crying and after several hours called into work and asked for the number of the EAP counselor. I talked with her for a while and she had me do a meditation to calm down. I later met with her and started to really address the grief I had suppressed for weeks. There’s also a book that helped me get through some of the tough days–HEALING AFTER LOSS: Daily Meditations for Working Through Grief by Martha Whitmore Hickman.

Now the pain of losing my dad is still with me but has softened. I think about him often and see his wonderful smile in my mind’s eye.

Boomers are not prepared–not their hearts. We (I’m one too) think we don’t “need” our parents, that we’re invincible, that we’re strong enough, together enough, busy enough not to really have to slow down and “feel” what’s happening.
But grief doesn’t listen. It takes you in its waves, in its undertow, and all you can do is trust that you’ll eventually get back to shore.

I cared for my mother full-time for the last three years of her life, and I had truly exhausted myself physically, mentally, and emotionally by the time it was all over.

Yet, I found that first year empty, meaningless (at times), and had to be very tender with myself.

I wrote every day. I wrote the entire time I cared for my mom–I captured all the hurts, frustrations, and irritations of caregiving–and I wrote that first year after my mom’s passing to capture my reflections and transformation.

It helped–and waiting for the grief too pass.

~Carol D. O’Dell
author of Mothering Mother: A Daughter’s Humorous and Heartbreaking Memoir

available on Amazon and in most bookstores.

My parents were all I had. They both died a few years back - a couple years apart.
I miss them a lot.
My mother was the best listener. Whenever one of our kids did something, she was the first we called.
Whenever we went on trips, she let us ramble on about the good times.
As a matter of fact, it was her laugh that ultimately led to the discovery that she had cancer - for the second time.
She would laugh and it ended with a cough.
She beat colon cancer early in her life but died of lung cancer.

There are places or events that occur that I think “Dad would like this.” He died of lonlieness. His wife was his best friend. It was not in their “plans” for her to die first.

I miss them a lot. It’s hard to see through my teary eyes so I’ll stop.

I’ve wanted to write this, but didn’t want to clog my blog with such a downer.

Thanks for the opportunity.
Mark