WHEN YOU SAY GOODBYE TO A PARENT

 

You are suddenly living in a whole new world.

You are no longer ‘the child’ and regardless of how long you have officially been ‘grown up’ for, you realise you actually never were until this moment. The shock of this adjustment will shake your very core.

When you have finally said goodbye to both your parents, assuming you were lucky enough to have had two. You are an orphan on this earth and that never, ever gets easier to take no matter how old and gray you are yourself and no matter how many children of your own you have.

You see, a part of your body is physically connected to the people that made it and also a part of your soul. When they no longer live, it is as if you are missing something practical that you need – like a finger or an arm. Because really, you are. You are missing your parent and that is something far more necessary than any limb.

And yet the connection is so strong it carries on somehow, no-one knows how exactly. But they are there. In some way, shape or form they are still guiding you if you listen closely enough. You can hear the words they would choose to say to you.

You can feel the warmth of their approval, their smile when a goal is achieved, their all-consuming love filling the air around you when a baby is born they haven’t met.

If you watch your children very closely you will see that they too have a connection with your parents long after they are gone. They will say things that resonate with you because it brings so many memories of the parent you are missing. They will carry on traits, thoughts and sometimes they will even see them in their dreams.

This is not something we can explain.

Love is a very mystical and wondrous entity.

It is far better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all and grief, grief is the price of that love. The deeper the love the stronger the grief.

When you say goodbye to a parent, do not forget to connect with that little girl who still lives inside you somewhere.

Take very good care of her, for she, she will be alone and scared.

When you say goodbye to your parents, you lose an identity, a place in the world. When the people who put you on this earth are no longer here, it changes everything.

Look after yourself the way they looked after you and listen out for them when you need it the most.

They never really leave.

Donna Ashworth

From her poetry collection ‘to the women’

Photo Selfie taken 7 June 2015 as we were leaving Jekyll Island GA after our first beach getaway together.

Remembering WDJ

Two years have passed since Daddy died.  There are white flowers on his marker (on the right) and a mixed floral bouquet on my maternal grandparent's companion marker (on the left).   My mother's new grave is in the middle.

Besides reading Scripture there are a couple of books/devotionals that have informed my grief and I recommend them.

The first is Every Moment Holy, Vol 2   published by Rabbit Room Press.  When I could not find words to pray, this collection supplied them.  The liturgies have been such balm for my soul that I go back to them often.  Plus I bought a dozen copies to give as gifts.

Second is Morning and Evening by Charles Spurgeon.   Never too simple and always applicable these short essays were read aloud round around the dinner table with my parents, and then just with me and Moma.   Spurgeon is a longtime favorite, but I had always only read the entries for the mornings.  Reading the Evening Entries was a blessing that helped me stay focused.

Third is hearing a series of sermons on heaven preached by Anthony Curto.  It is real.  Here is a link to the first one delivered at our church on 27 December 2020.

Fourth, advice for assuaging grief.  Do something today that you enjoyed doing with the deceased.  In my case, it was going to a shop frequented by my mother and me and taking care of a lamp in need of attention/repair.

Added 3/11/2026 @year 5 after losing WDJ - listened to an episode of Fibber McGee and Molly (radio show)

FOR A TIME OF SORROW*

My father died one year ago today and I thought I share some words* that have comforted me.

 Sorrow is one of the things that are lent, not given. 

A thing that is lent may be taken away;

a thing that is given is not taken away.

Joy is given.

Sorrow is lent.

We are not our own, we are bought with a price (1 Cor 6:19-20),

"and our sorrow is not our own" 

(Samuel Rutherford said this a long time ago),

it is lent to us for just a little while

that we may use it for eternal purposes.

Then it will be taken away

and everlasting joy will be our Father's gift to us,

and the Lord God will wipe away all tears from off all faces (Is 25:8)

So, let us use this "lent" thing to draw us 

nearer to the heart of Him who was once a Man of Sorrows,

(He is not that now, but He does not forget the feeling of sorrow).

Let us use it to make us more tender with others, 

as He was when on earth, and is still,

for He is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. (Heb 4:15)

*excerpt from Edges of His Ways by Amy Carmichael's

Photo Credit Sheffield Leithart