I went over to visit my elderly father this morning at his assisted living apartment. When I got there his aide told me that he was kind of shaky today, had a hard time standing up, didn’t eat much breakfast. I sat down with Dad for a while then I said, “Hey Dad I brought you this big box of cornflakes …you want some?” He said. “Actually I’ve been thinking about pizza!” This made me chuckle, and I said, “Well good thing there’s some leftover pizza in the fridge!” So I heated up a slice and he ate it and enjoyed every. single. bite.
It’s not easy to see this man in an even more weakened state than usual. And at the same time it delights me no end to see him enjoy a favorite food, bite by bite.
I put on a Pavarotti CD from his and Mom’s collection and the minute it started playing I was flooded with memories. Then I heard the opening bars of a song called Non Ti Scordar di Me and my tears began to flow. Years ago when I was taking voice lessons from my opera singer friend, my mom came to a lesson one time and I sang that song for her. Afterwards I said to her, “I can’t understand why I can’t get through this song without crying”. She said, “Grandma sang that song to you all the time.” Grandma, whom we lived with, died suddenly when I was four and a half.
These things get stored in our cellular memory.
And so now seeing my dad in the latter stage of his life, and missing my mom, and my grandparents, and missing the parts of him that are gone, my heart just broke open and I was flooded with memories, with love, with grief, and with tears. Powerful feelings….
At the same time, I get it. This is life. This is human life. It is sublime and it is agonizing and it’s good to feel all of it …every single drop of it.
That’s all.
I love you.
Janice Masters, The Shaman Mama
www.JaniceMasters.com
To arrange for an Intuitive Reading or Private Coaching/Mentoring with me send me an email to: janmmiami at gmail.com
#agingparent #nontiscordardime #loveandloss #feelitall #singing #song #grief #cellularmemory
Photo: My dad and me on my wedding day in 1988
I have been where you are and understand the complexity of your feelings. As time passes and our parents age, we are filled with such a mixture of emotions…sorrow, loss, joy, memories…we mourn our loss as we celebrate what we have experienced or were unable to experience. I spent many hours crying tears like yours during my mother’s last years. The grieving is such a necessary part of it all — a natural transition — and I think a sort of way of cherishing those special last moments together. The grieving for our parents begins as they begin to lose pieces of themselves and we lose pieces of them. Grieving takes its natural course and all phases inform and enrich our spirits. Thank you for sharing your moments. They are welcome reminders for all of us. Reminders to appreciate what we have while we have it and to feel compassion for ourselves even in retrospect.
Dorothy, your comments tell me that you HAVE been where I am…and with such awareness of this process. Thank you for expressing the depth of the experience and the grieving that is so natural as we move along the timeline. The bittersweet quality of my tears speaks to the combination of appreciating and cherishing just as we are losing what was… Time is not linear and it is really all NOW. I appreciate your sensibilities and deep grasp of this most precious life experience. Having been through it with my mother three years ago, it is compounded by my dad’s declining state. The Fact that he refers to himself as ‘the last of the Mohicans’ is not lost on me. He is he last of his generation in our family. Ahhhh…..the circle of life keeps spiraling. Thanks for taking the time to comment. ~Jan
Jan, thank you for sharing this deeply intimate and intense time. Indeed, the grief before our love ones depart can be so intense and filled with beautiful depths of emotion and meaning. I so get what you shared and what Dorothy shared as well; it has made me much richer and a better soul for having been there.
Oh Lynn, I know you have experienced this with your Mom …and being able to be fully present is what enriches and deepens us, for sure. The grief for your Dad was/is different, as is true with an unexpected passing….and it too carves the bowl deeper with grief..and then it can be filled with joy. I love you. ~Jan
Jan,
This is so heartwarming and bittersweet. I love the wedding photo of you with your dad! I know first hand how you feel. Music brings out the flood of feelings in me, especially when it’s bluegrass or folk or an old Jewish song…all genres from my past that I connect with my parents and their friends growing up. When my mom first died, my dad wanted to play music and sing together when I came to visit, just like we’ve always done on my visits, but I couldn’t get through one song without feeling so heartbroken. Now I can and we play together when I visit again. My heart breaks though sometimes thinking of him in his apt. without my mom now. You’re right, it’s the circle of life…it’s just so BIG sometimes. Thanks for your post!!!!
I know that you DO know this directly Ruth, and with your musical nature, of course the music strikes that deeply felt chord. I feel that with music from the 30s, 40’s, Italian music mostly, we all have our triggers that open the heart and the memory bank. That heartbreak of our fathers alone in their apartments without their beloved is heartbreaking, no question.. and as is pointed out to me time and time again…we do project our imagined feelings and fears onto them as well. Thank you so much for writing. I love you!! ~Jan
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I too experienced the same scenario with my ailing father… Except it wasn’t pizza but a snickers bar… I was 21 yrs old and his main caregiver. And yes, watching him chomp on that candy bar, and the satisfaction on his face at that moment was priceless to me.
Those memories I go back to.. I cherish them… I’m thankful to understand at that young age this is our passage of life.. was a joy for me to be there with him.
As cantankerous as he could be, I wouldn’t have changed not one moment…
Your article has touched many ppl… Thank you for sharing.
Ahhh, Guine, a Snickers bar!! How deliciously perfect!! you were young to be a caregiver, but soul agreements being what they are, you were fulfilling yours and he, his. A process of deepening your spiritual experience, no doubt. That you found JOY….I get it…it is a huge blessing to be accompanying a soul at a time such as that. I am so glad you wrote to share about you and your father. Blessings and love, Jan
Jan, Beautiful thoughts and brought back memories of when my Mom was in the last stages of her life. To the day I cannot hold back tears when I hear the Italian song “Mamma”.
Mamma, solo per te la mia canzone vola
Mamma, sarai con me, tu non sarai piu’ sola
Quanto ti voglio bene
Queste parole d’amore che ti sospira il mio cuore
Forse non s’usano piu.
But with the tears are memories of a life well lived. The moments shared, the unconditional love and guidance she gave me. Vapo Rub when I was sick as a child, understanding when I was heartsick at the loss of a first love, and tender guidance during my “wilder” years.
While our experiences are surely different there is a common thread. And it seems to me you turned out to be a pretty terrific lady.
Rich, my dear cousin, I can hear Jerry Vale singing that heart-wrenching song right now. You and I have remarked on how blessed we are with our parents and families and of course, that makes the loss even more poignant and painful when they go.Your mother was a treasure, a gem and just look at what she supported you in becoming!! You’re pretty terrific yourself. Thank you for taking a moment to comment here. Un abbraccio grande dal tua cugina.
yes yes yes. you SO capture the bitter-sweetness. My parents were both amateur classical musicians – they played quartets in our living room EVERY week for as long as I can remember, until Dad got sick 18 months before he died. Classical music rocks me to the core. We fed my Dad a hot dog a few days before he died. I loved that experience too. We were supposed to take him to the Orioles game. My kids and husband went instead. Dad and I watched on tv and we fed him a hot dog when they got back. The last thing he ate was a piece of his favorite dark chocolate – he had it shipped from his former home in the Chicago area. He really savored it.
Ellen, so amazing the experiences are so parallel when they are distilled down to the essence of love and pure joy. Thinking about your dad eating that hot dog…and the dark chocolate and the savoring of it ….ahhhh, yes. And the music of our lives, carries the memories of our hearts and souls….we humans are SOMETHING wondrous! Love you! ~Jan