Honestly, it’s sometimes that simple. Those milestone dates without the person we love are always harder the first time around. I don’t know if it gets any easier, you just get used to it. Hope we can all be like Cathy more often.
I remember having to do all of those things when my parents passed, and I was always surprised by the kindness of the people on the other end of the phone line. I’ve been having a hard day today, missing my parents, so your post felt appropriate for me. Know that when the end of April rolls around, and the Mother’s Day content seems interminable and sent directly to attack your feelings, that you are not alone. All of us who have lost our mothers are standing next to you, with tears in our eyes and love in our hearts.
This is beautiful. I remember too worrying when my mum’s name was falling lower on my texts. I would return to the the texts and read over them. Most were between she and my kids commentating on MasterChef! What is he thinking with that cake it won’t cook in time! Or I’d eat that. I love those messages. Nothing profound but filled with love. This is a bit off topic but I just read a book I think you’d like if you have the capacity for reading at the moment. It’s Small Hours by Bobby Palmer and it’s incredibly beautiful and reminds us of simple changes, simple things in our world that connect us to and in it. I found it comforting.
“How being with grief can expand the heart when I long assumed it would only harden it. How being with grief can make love more obvious. How being with grief can clarify what matters in ways avoiding it never will” - Lisa Olivera, thought I’d pass along for your Monday ❤️
Caroline, this: "showing up as a person, week after week, and sharing my truth, with the hope it would help others feel seen, more connected....we are greeting the unknown every day" resonates with me because it's what I try to be and do every day. Every day. We meet the unknown by being who we are and whatever we can bring to it. A friend shared her mantra with me: "Be kind, tell the truth, remember to say thank you." I practice that every day, here, when I write, when I read and comment, when I go about the rest of the day I will ad the following for now. When we meet someone, either on the other end of the phone or in person who understands not only what we say or what we need but how we feel, that's priceless. Those of us who had mothers who taught us how to be this way are fortunate. I will celebrate my mother's birthday next month, 4/24. She died at age 96, fifteen years ago, and she is still with me every day.
Gary, thank you so much for this thoughtful note. I love that you practice this every day. My birthday is the same week as your mother’s — I will think of you. As you say, we are fortunate indeed.
I think Cathy could tell she was holding you through the phone, and I think she felt good about herself that she could make the experience better for you. Kindness like that is the opposite of zero sum thinking (whatever that might be).
That photo made my heart melt. I too, have had the experience of an unexpected holding by someone on the other end of the phone line, someone who really cares, a stranger, but a human who recognises what you are going through, and it makes all the difference.
Caroline, one of the things I enjoy the most about your writing is how it makes me feel seen, even though we’ve never met! Thank you for your thoughtful newsletters. Sending a big hug ❤️
Argh! The cell phone thing! I’m the mom with a 28 year old married daughter still on my plan and I’ve been dragging my feet for years about separating things. I laughed out loud at the comfort your similar pains gave me. Thank you!
In the telling of this story, it’s come out that multiple forty-year-old friends also have their phone service bundled with their parents. But if you do decide to separate things… and you happen to have AT&T… maybe you’ll get Cathy!
As someone whose job sometimes feels a lot like Cathy’s - interacting with lots of people for brief periods of time - it’s so helpful to remember that making those short interactions easier and gentler matters.
I imagine this goes both ways — that people often bring frustrations over other parts of their lives into their interactions with you! It’s amazing what a difference a small exchange can make. Thanks for adding this perspective!
For sure, and the more I can remember that, the easier it is to extend grace to them and remember that them being upset probably has very little to do with me.
I'm sorry Caroline. These are all the unanticipated little tasks that get strewn out months, years even, after suffering through the loss of a parent. Each one is like a fresh pin prick, right into the skin. Just know that as acceptance slowly crawls in, they begin to sting less and less. Fortunately you had a good soul on the other end of the line.
You do eventually hit a point where the reminders and tasks stop bringing pain, and are replaced with a warmth and a sense of gratitude for having had them in your lives. It takes a while to work your way through that maze of grief to get there, but you will get there.
But there are still some things, that I never could bring myself to do and have just left alone. My mom passed ten years ago, and she still lives on in my phone contacts, her old phone number, smiling photo and all. I could never bring myself to delete that entry.
Thank you, Dan. My dad has been doing the lion’s share of the logistical tasks, so I can’t even really complain about that. But the reminders! As you say, they are everywhere. So many little pin pricks and often when you least expect them. I love that your mom is still in your phone, smiling photo and all. Thanks so much for sharing. It’s always a gift and a comfort to connect with people who understand.
Honestly, it’s sometimes that simple. Those milestone dates without the person we love are always harder the first time around. I don’t know if it gets any easier, you just get used to it. Hope we can all be like Cathy more often.
Thank you so much, Israel. As you say, it’s sometimes that simple.
I do so much enjoy how you show up in all the glory of a human for us here. It is appreciated.
Thank you so much, Cheniece. That means a lot.
I remember having to do all of those things when my parents passed, and I was always surprised by the kindness of the people on the other end of the phone line. I’ve been having a hard day today, missing my parents, so your post felt appropriate for me. Know that when the end of April rolls around, and the Mother’s Day content seems interminable and sent directly to attack your feelings, that you are not alone. All of us who have lost our mothers are standing next to you, with tears in our eyes and love in our hearts.
The photo!! Sending love to Cathy’s everywhere
❤️
In a world full of Karens, be a Cathy.
Amen to that.
This is beautiful. I remember too worrying when my mum’s name was falling lower on my texts. I would return to the the texts and read over them. Most were between she and my kids commentating on MasterChef! What is he thinking with that cake it won’t cook in time! Or I’d eat that. I love those messages. Nothing profound but filled with love. This is a bit off topic but I just read a book I think you’d like if you have the capacity for reading at the moment. It’s Small Hours by Bobby Palmer and it’s incredibly beautiful and reminds us of simple changes, simple things in our world that connect us to and in it. I found it comforting.
“How being with grief can expand the heart when I long assumed it would only harden it. How being with grief can make love more obvious. How being with grief can clarify what matters in ways avoiding it never will” - Lisa Olivera, thought I’d pass along for your Monday ❤️
Thank you ❤️
Caroline, this: "showing up as a person, week after week, and sharing my truth, with the hope it would help others feel seen, more connected....we are greeting the unknown every day" resonates with me because it's what I try to be and do every day. Every day. We meet the unknown by being who we are and whatever we can bring to it. A friend shared her mantra with me: "Be kind, tell the truth, remember to say thank you." I practice that every day, here, when I write, when I read and comment, when I go about the rest of the day I will ad the following for now. When we meet someone, either on the other end of the phone or in person who understands not only what we say or what we need but how we feel, that's priceless. Those of us who had mothers who taught us how to be this way are fortunate. I will celebrate my mother's birthday next month, 4/24. She died at age 96, fifteen years ago, and she is still with me every day.
Gary, thank you so much for this thoughtful note. I love that you practice this every day. My birthday is the same week as your mother’s — I will think of you. As you say, we are fortunate indeed.
Thanks for this post, Caroline.
The "reenactment" would melt any heart.
I think Cathy could tell she was holding you through the phone, and I think she felt good about herself that she could make the experience better for you. Kindness like that is the opposite of zero sum thinking (whatever that might be).
That photo made my heart melt. I too, have had the experience of an unexpected holding by someone on the other end of the phone line, someone who really cares, a stranger, but a human who recognises what you are going through, and it makes all the difference.
Caroline, one of the things I enjoy the most about your writing is how it makes me feel seen, even though we’ve never met! Thank you for your thoughtful newsletters. Sending a big hug ❤️
Thank you, Lauren. ❤️ That means so much.
Argh! The cell phone thing! I’m the mom with a 28 year old married daughter still on my plan and I’ve been dragging my feet for years about separating things. I laughed out loud at the comfort your similar pains gave me. Thank you!
In the telling of this story, it’s come out that multiple forty-year-old friends also have their phone service bundled with their parents. But if you do decide to separate things… and you happen to have AT&T… maybe you’ll get Cathy!
I love you ❤️ (and Cathy). Thank you for your vulnerability, always.
Thank you, Gwen. ❤️
As someone whose job sometimes feels a lot like Cathy’s - interacting with lots of people for brief periods of time - it’s so helpful to remember that making those short interactions easier and gentler matters.
I imagine this goes both ways — that people often bring frustrations over other parts of their lives into their interactions with you! It’s amazing what a difference a small exchange can make. Thanks for adding this perspective!
For sure, and the more I can remember that, the easier it is to extend grace to them and remember that them being upset probably has very little to do with me.
Aaaaah, yes. There you are, Caroline!
Sage of the newsletter. 😍
Yes, yes and yes.
I've been MIA lately and missed a lot, purely due to having no time.
Your writing ALWAYS resonates with me, teaches me something new or reminds me of gems I had lost focus of.
Just texted the first Einstein quote to a friend.
Thanks so much, Rusty. That means a lot. Always love hearing from you. ❤️
I'm sorry Caroline. These are all the unanticipated little tasks that get strewn out months, years even, after suffering through the loss of a parent. Each one is like a fresh pin prick, right into the skin. Just know that as acceptance slowly crawls in, they begin to sting less and less. Fortunately you had a good soul on the other end of the line.
You do eventually hit a point where the reminders and tasks stop bringing pain, and are replaced with a warmth and a sense of gratitude for having had them in your lives. It takes a while to work your way through that maze of grief to get there, but you will get there.
But there are still some things, that I never could bring myself to do and have just left alone. My mom passed ten years ago, and she still lives on in my phone contacts, her old phone number, smiling photo and all. I could never bring myself to delete that entry.
Thank you, Dan. My dad has been doing the lion’s share of the logistical tasks, so I can’t even really complain about that. But the reminders! As you say, they are everywhere. So many little pin pricks and often when you least expect them. I love that your mom is still in your phone, smiling photo and all. Thanks so much for sharing. It’s always a gift and a comfort to connect with people who understand.