When a parent dies

[Slammr (imported)]

This is a little off topic, but it involves the death of my father in 1986. I had been in Japan for the better part of the year, during which I'd had little or no contact with my parents. I had traveled to Thailand and had gone with a girl I'd met there to one of her friends' house. That friend, another young woman, offered to read my fortune. I went along with it, thinking nothing of it. Everything she said was right on. Then she asked me, "Is one of your parents ill?"

"Not that I know of," I said, "My mother had cancer, but that was years ago, and as far as I know, she's cured."

"It's not your mother," she said: "It's your father. He's going to die some time after the first of the year." (It was probably September then).

When I returned home a few weeks later, I discovered that my father was ill (Cirrhosis of the liver). He died in January.

His death hit me harder than I would have thought, because we weren't close. If he ever told me he loved me or gave me a hug, I don't remember it. Still, when he died, I cried.

I didn't cry when my mother died 15 years later; and we were close.

A little poem I wrote:

We never played catch

or did other things,

a father and son might do.

I don't think he ever said,

"I love you."

But, when he died...

I cried.

In many ways I hate the son of a bitch for withholding his love from me; but deep down inside there's still a little boy that would give anything for it.

[SunLord (imported)]

This is a little off topic, but it involves the death of my father in 1986. I had been in Japan for the better part of the year, during which I'd had little or no contact with my parents. I had traveled to Thailand and had gone with a girl I'd met there to one of her friends' house. That friend, another young woman, offered to read my fortune. I went along with it, thinking nothing of it. Everything she said was right on. Then she asked me, "Is one of your parents ill?"

"Not that I know of," I said, "My mother had cancer, but that was years ago, and as far as I know, she's cured."

"It's not your mother," she said: "It's your father. He's going to die some time after the first of the year." (It was probably September then).

When I returned home a few weeks later, I discovered that my father was ill (Cirrhosis of the liver). He died in January.

His death hit me harder than I would have thought, because we weren't close. If he ever told me he loved me or gave me a hug, I don't remember it. Still, when he died, I cried.

I didn't cry when my mother died 15 years later; and we were close.

A little poem I wrote:

We never played catch

or did other things,

a father and son might do.

I don't think he ever said,

"I love you."

But, when he died...

I cried.

In many ways I hate the son of a bitch for withholding his love from me; but deep down inside there's still a little boy that would give anything for it.

This is really freaky, but your story is exactly what happened to me.

And your so right the little boy within would give any thing for just one moment in the sun!

BUT life has seen fit to balance the equation another way, now I've been blessed with a little boy of my own and he will never have to worry about such things. So if I ever think of him it only with sorrow for what he denighed himself, especially when my son (2.5yr) huggs me and says "daddy I love you and I want to give you a kiss"

[0_Wisher (imported)]

The death of parents or other dearly loved ones is always hard, and we shouldn't want it any other way - it shows that they mattered. Worst of all is when our last interactions were negative, even when it was their fault, and especially when it was our fault. We can hope to see them again and to resolve all issues in a more enlightened atmosphere, or at least we can remember that every parent sometime, someplace has wanted to be a good one, the good one that forgives all, accepts all, wants to excuse you from the pain of presence during death, who knows what all. I've even known a father who committed suicide in the firm belief that he was providing for his family by doing that. God or nature gives children because the love a parent has for a child makes the parent happy. Nothing else but love can make so happy.

(A little mushy but true for most of us - our parents mostly loved us better than they were able to show.)

[wolverine1 (imported)]

I gotta be honest here, I am lucky in that I still have both my parents with me at this time. My mum has been in poor health for the past year with various breathing / chest troubles and at one point we thought we were going to lose her... thankfully she is still here and doing well although all doctors have explained that her chest will deteriorate over the coming years - i'm not being maudlin and dwelling on that, however it makes you even more determined to cherish and enjoy what time you share together for as long as you possibly can

When reading some earlier posts, one hit me in particular by Slammr regarding his father and made me realise how my own relationship with my father is very distant... I have tried and tried to get him to show some emotion / demonstrate his feelings towards various situations and people and he never has... On a good note I will never stop showing him that I care, I just accept that he does care but isn't comfortable showing it, probably due to his own upbringing in post-war london.

I agree that you cannot look on the dark side of life all the time, but the sad things that have happened to other members just serve to remind us all how precious our loved ones are

[Paolo]

I haven't chimed in on this one for a while, because my feelings are probably atypical.

After a very brief ( one week, if that ) period of mourning, my feelings on the deaths of my mother and stepfather can be summed in one word - relief.

Now, the death of my adult-friend, the man next door who practically raised me, THAT just shattered me...and that was in 2001. I was about 13 when my parents left. Sadly enough, to this day, all I can say is "good riddance."

[tugon (imported)]

I haven't chimed in on this one for a while, because my feelings are probably atypical.

After a very brief ( one week, if that ) period of mourning, my feelings on the deaths of my mother and stepfather can be summed in one word - relief.

Sadly enough, to this day, all I can say is "good riddance."

Paolo I had those same feelings when my father died. Even though I had not seen him in years I had a sense of relief, safety and peace when he died. Not all parents should have been parents. I happen to know you are a fantastic surrogate parent.