My sister recounted my mother’s sadness, how she burst into tears when it was time for my sister to leave. My sister held her for a few minutes to comfort her and left anyway.
To what extent are we responsible for alleviating another’s sadness, particularly if the source of our grief is the same? Do we defer to one over the other? Is there a hierarchy of grief? Does partner trump parent?
The problem with collective grief without counsel is its cumulative effect. Grief with no outlet, runoff, or resolution, swallows us up.
As such, I find it almost unbearable to be around someone whose sorrow is greater than my own right now. It is both weighty and suffocating.
And so, I want nothing more than to turn away from the cavernous depths of that despair, to shed the role of caregiver for a while so that I can open another door, one that leads to a room with a chair in the middle of it, waiting now for six months, the seat of my own despondency.
If only I could sit there for as long as it takes to find my own way back to the light.

Speechless…hugs!
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Thanks, Victor … hugs are most welcome. ❤️
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so sad Sharon…
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It is sad, David. 🙏
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Already the photo made me gasp…. the picture tells a whole story, and it’s not a joyful one.
Having lost three women of my family within 10 months, I know a bit about grief and sadness. I totally agree with your feelings and words. One (surviving) sister of mine is absolutely breaking down every time either the name of our youngest departed sister or our mother is mentionned. I, on the other hand, am mostly (sorry for those unable to understand) thankful that the awful suffering (sister) and the pains of old age (mother) found an end. All three of these women died not violently but prepared. My sister managed to make her peace with one estranged child, the other two were in peace with themselves and their last days. Of course, there are moments of intense heartbreak, but knowing that all of them are in a better place and that none of them would want to come back, is a huge comfort to me.
My mum was the last one to go, and today in a month’s time will be her first ‘anniversary’ of departure. So, obviously my thoughts tour more often around her right now, but I cannot go into a ‘collective’ grief mood. It wouldn’t help me with my own feelings. I’m worried enough with the state of health of my 99+yr old auntie, after which/whom (?) I look too regularly. I have deep feelings for so many of my other friends and their suffering, and I know that I can only be good for them if I look also after myself.
Your writing is wonderful! I admire you and I’m glad that I’ve found you (a very short while ago).
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That is a devastating loss, Kiki. I am so sorry that you and your family are going through this. I do believe in a good death; my father had one in that he lived an extended life (thanks to the miracles of modern medicine) in which he met all his goals, he accepted his death the last week of his life, and he had access to hospice/palliative care. Relationships are complex, even when we love the person who has died or is dying, never mind the complexity of all those people left behind. I acknowledge your assertion that you cannot go into collective grief mode right now and I understand it. At a certain point, we must save ourselves and turn away from what brings us more pain.Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings and for your kind feedback. Sending hugs across the Atlantic ❤️
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I’m my years I have learned that grief doesn’t come with a road map and thus must be honoured as such. Each rendition is unique no matter how many times we go through it. It is one of those experiences we try to unify so that we can imagine getting through it. We can not unify grief as we can not unify the connections between people. We can and will get through it, we just don’t get to know how in advance. Yield to the healing imbedded in all grief.
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Thank you for this wisdom, Glenda. You are right, the grieving process is complex and varied. As a natural caregiver, i can attest that it is also replete with feelings of guilt. It is important to take what we need during this difficult times, easier said than done. 🙏
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Five months now since I lost my dear mom, who was my lifetime complicitor (is that a word?)- ok, my cheerleader and best friend (those are words!). Three months of stabbing pain. Two months of numbness. Now I am beginning to see glimpses of memories of her as she was before severe illness- a gift. I hope these glimpses grow, because I know she’d want me to feel the comfort of those earlier memories. And when I do good deeds, be a better person, she whispers in my ear, an almost imperceptible breeze. Such warmth. But I still write these words with tears in my eyes. Not quite there yet. Thanks for sharing, Sharon. Two friends, in our own lifeboats, waving to each other.
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Davina, I did not know you lost your mother. It must have been around the time or shortly thereafter my dad died (July 20th) and if it was announced, I missed it. I am so sorry. My mother is still living but is in cognitive decline; I am losing her bit by bit. She can no longer assume the role of mothering mother and that is what I need right now, my mom to take away the pain as only a mother can. I know exactly what you are referring to, your mother as your greatest champion. Thank you for sharing a bit of your story with me here. It helps to know we are not alone. Hugs ❤️
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The loss never leaves. You find ways of living with it. I understand. Is very sad and very hard. Sending you hugs.
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Thank you, dear Abby. Much love xox
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