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Wednesday, 07 January 2015

Permission to Die

By Wendl Kornfeld

My mom told me her own mother never once told her she loved her. This made me very sad. A wanted and adored child myself, this piece of information was one of the many things I tried to remember whenever my mother was being, well, a pain.

She also said the only time she saw her mother cry was when my mom’s youngest brother died of polio at age 15. Ma said no parent should bury a child, it was the absolute worst thing that could happen to a parent.

We tend to be more accepting of the possibility - if not inevitability - that we will someday lose a parent or a spouse and friends but losing a child is not the normal order of the universe.

Therefore, it will be no surprise to learn my mother tended to be overly protective of us kids, seeing the world as an infinite number of terrors ready to eat her young. She wouldn’t even let my older sister drive me anywhere reasoning that when the car inevitably crashed and burned, she’d lose both of us.

And so it was I went through life with that little extra voice in my head always assessing possibly dangerous situations, foods, neighborhoods and people. Over and above good common sense, it was an obligation to take very good care of myself to protect Ma from her worst nightmare.

Daddy died first and when Ma passed on at almost 94 years of age, it felt like I’d gotten her permission to die someday myself. Now I could go without breaking Ma's heart, perhaps even killing her. Ma died knowing her children outlived her, the greatest possible gift for her last voyage.


[INVITATION: All elders, 50 and older, are welcome to submit stories for this blog. They can be fiction, non-fiction, poetry, memoir, etc. Please read instructions for submitting.]

Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post

Comments

This was my Mom...she use to say "Sheila take care of yourself - I have to go first" which she did in 1997 at age 83.
Thank you for reminding me of that. And btw - thanks Ronni for rec. the book Life after Life. Oh wow - such a story

Thank you for this story. I've known far too many parents who have buried their children and can only imagine how difficult that must be. I also have to admit to often feeling overly anxious about my own children's health, safety and general well-being, even though they are now well into adulthood. This story and discussion remind me of a song by Peggy Seeger, sister to Pete, "Thoughts of Time". It's a lovely song, which you can hear here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PzjWqkucecs

The entire song brings tears to my eyes, but the line "but to know our children will grow old and die ..." almost always breaks me up.

Wendl:

Thanks for your piece.

My poor mother had to deal with the death of my brother when he was only 42. It isn't easy for a sibling, either, for me and his 4 kids.

It's also awful how this pain revisits us. My son, age 63 has stage 4 cancer and is treating for it. With many prayers (he says, "Mom, tell your friends to just pray for my doctors)" he is taking it with more aplomb than I ever could.

I only realized while reading your story that I have repeated my over protective mother's behavior with my own children. And I was so certain I would NEVER be like my Mom! I'm glad your mother's worst fears did not come to pass.

Cathy Johnson, thank you so much for posting the Peggy Seeger link. It's a killer song, and her voice is of such a lovely timbre.

Excellent article, Wendl....glad I could contribute a line! Love your ideas about sharing this delicate subject....love you!

This post made me think of a woman in our tiny church who just lost her third child to cancer right before Christmas. How she is able to keep her faith in God and whatever is beyond me. This evening, a family lost their 18 month to cancer. And tonight I'm saying a extra prayer of thanksgiving for the extra day God has granted me with our boys.

I admire how your approach to writing on a sensitive, difficult topic drew on understanding the influences of one generation on the next and then the next. I think there were more "permissions" being acknowledged here. Well done, Wendl.

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