Dear ________,
I am so sorry. Though, I’m sure the word ‘sorry’ has become numb to you now. I am sorry that you have had to go through such a traumatic, raw and gruelling experience at such an important time of your life.
The teen years are supposed to be easy, and carefree; they are not supposed to be heart-breaking and deep. If it helps, know that you are not alone, no matter how much you fell that way at times. When my Mom passed away, I felt as though I had no one to talk to who had experienced the same thing. I promise that one day you will. Reading this, maybe you know me, maybe you don’t, but here is my story if it helps relate to you.
I was 17 years old when my Mom passed away from a 2 and a half year battle with metastatic breast cancer. It was in May of my grade 12 year of high school. I don’t think that it could have come at a worse time. I had my graduation banquet 20 days after she passed away. I had my commencement (where you walk across the stage) a month to the day after my Mom had died. Was it difficult? Yes. Did I get through it? Yes. Was it easy? No. Did I pretend it was easy? Yes.
I became really good at putting on this ‘mask’ of happiness to try and hide my feelings. I became so good at putting on this mask that I even started to believe it. I was able to believe it for a long time too. The painful part of the grief hit me 4 months after she passed away. I had moved into my university dorm and for the first time, I was completely alone.
From May-August, my life was filled with people, constantly making sure that I was doing okay and checking in to see if I needed anything. I became very good at slapping that mask on that it became apart of me all the time. When I was asked if I was okay, it became an automatic response of “Yes, thank you”, followed by a smile that was faker than spray-cheese.
I had a constant need to make sure that people thought that I was okay and dealing with things well. I had a constant need pretend to be a role-model and block out these feelings, though I don’t know why. I think it is because I was afraid to be weak and vulnerable to others; it was something that I had never done before.
Please, if I can give you one thing that you can take away from this: don’t be afraid of your emotions. Do not block them out. Do not try to feel something that you are not. Embrace all of your emotions.
Since I did not do this, when I finally let down my wall, it was an uncontrollable flood of sadness and grief. It made me question such much about myself and my existence.
Here are some of the questions that I asked and thoughts that I had, and still do have. Know that after meeting people who have gone through the same thing that we have, they are normal.
Why didn’t I realize she was dying? I should have realized sooner. I wish that I had more time with her. Why me? Why her? Why do i deserve this to happen to me? To her? How could such a terrible thing happen so someone who was so perfectly healthy? How did she die? I know it was cancer, but what exactly made her stop breathing and her heart stop pumping? How could she just be gone? Will I ever see her again? Is there a God? What if I get cancer? What is the point of living without her? Will things ever be the same? Things will never be the same. What is the point of being alive if the same thing could happen to me? Why am I alive? I want to die. When will I die? How can I ever feel happy? I forget what happiness feels like. I miss her. I miss her a lot. I miss her laugh. I miss her hair. I miss the way she would rub my back. I miss her getting mad at me for not putting my dishes away. I miss her being the only person I could tell all of my feelings of anxiety and sadness to. I miss our disagreements when shopping for clothes. I miss seeing her healthy. Why do I only remember her as sick? I feel numb. Nothing is important. I just want to stay in bed all day. Why can’t I stop crying. I don’t want to ruin other people with my sadness. If I keep this all to myself I am going to self implode. Will my Dad re-marry? What if I forget her? What if there was more we could have done? What if I had done this differently, maybe that would not have happened. I wish I had more to remember her by. Am I supposed to feel relief? I don’t relieved. I feel alone. I don’t want to tell my dad I am not okay because he is sad too right now and don’t want to make him more sad knowing I am damaged and broken. She doesn’t feel gone. I wish she as still here.
If I could give some advice to you here’s what it would be:
Some days suck. Some days are okay. Do not expect them to be all or another.
It is going to suck for a long time, but impossible to tell if it will ever get better.
Holidays may seem impossible now, but they are not as bad as they seem. Use these days to celebrate them and remember all the memories you had with them. Try and focus on the good ones but remember the bad ones.
Do not try and frame them as someone that they were not. People will try and make it seem as though they were a hero, but they were flawed. Those flaws were apart of them and made up their identity. Do not be afraid to remember them.
They are proud of you. So many people will say this to you but it won’t resinate with you. Even doing something as small as waking up today makes them proud of you.
Try and hold on to old traditions, but do not hesitate to modify them. At Christmas time, my Mom used to always make biscotti to give to friends and family. So this year, my Mom’s friend and me made them; trying to remember the way she did it but not being afraid if they turned out slightly differently.
Celebrate them. Celebrate them. Celebrate them! They will be in your thoughts everyday, try and keep the thoughts positive and see the good in them. It helps get through it.
Share memories to others about them. Remember that time a bird pooped on their head in Mexico? She was so mad but me and my brothers thought it was hilarious. Tell it to others as if she was still here.
Do not be afraid to let things go. This is something that I am still working on. I still have her name saved in my phone even though that number now belongs to my younger brother. You cannot keep everything the same.
On the other hand, keep small things to remind you of her. I have a lipstick of hers that I wear when I miss her the most. It makes me feel close to her and helps with the pain.
Crying is okay. Crying to other people is okay. Crying silently in the middle of a lecture hall full of people is okay. The way that you are feeling is okay.
Hug the rest of your family, lean on each other for support.
Always try and see at least a little bit of light, it doesn’t get better but it does become more normal.
I am always here for you, just reach out to me.
Sophie
Sophie Cummings, the author of this article, has previously had it published by HC at SFU, but as one of our favorite and most meaningful articles, we wanted to share it again. Be sure to see this article, as well as many others by Sophie on her blog: https://sophiecummingss.wordpress.com