Hey, Don’t Be Strong!

Tomorrow marks the first year of remembrance since I lost my dearest Mom, I reminisce about the wonderful moments and ruminate on the grief that has been with me this past year in its ebbs and flows.

It was a routine Monday in March, last year, and my parents, who have lived with me for a few years, were traveling after the 2-year COVID gap, my mother was excited about finally traveling after a hiatus following her heart attack last year, and her "Fit to Fly" certificate from her doctor that cleared her for travel. We hardly spoke during the one month that she traveled, me busy with the work-home routine; I did not know at the time I would live to regret it!

My last memory of my Mum would be me dropping her and my Dad off at the airport, I never thought that would be my last goodbye to her!

Things escalated pretty quickly, and during one of her stops in Mumbai, we lost my beloved mother, a city she loved visiting, as circumstances would have it, neither my dad, sister, nor I could be with her in her final moments.

She was a homemaker, my dear Mum, an excellent solution provider, a great cook, an enviable multitasker, kind, generous, patient, always a giver, and above all, an encourager—"Go do this!" "Go try that!" "Wear that dress", "You got this!" Looking back, she made me the go-getter I am. In a world of critics, my mom has always been my loudest, most vocal cheerleader!

Extremely personal loss, but why am I writing about this?

We as friends, family, and co-workers DON’T understand grief! We hide behind the jargon of trending hashtags related to well-being.

We downplay emotions. How many of us talk to the grieved person or listen rather than rattling off stories of their own experiences or, even better, not talk about the topic at all?

We appreciate people who show no sign of emotion and get back to their routine as early as possible.

We often say "Stay strong", "She is with you, watching you!" or worse "Good, she didn’t have much suffering in the end."

We stop all communication to avoid the awkward trigger of emotion or being stuck in a place of not knowing what to say.

The world would truly be a better place if we really "understood" the bereavement period, didn’t laud a grieving person for bouncing back to their normal routine/duties, or worse, didn't talk to them about it or check in on them.

Do we think to say instead "This is a tough phase; take your time. I am here if I can help in any way I can?"

It is surprising to me that the death of someone close is perhaps the scariest, deepest trauma there is, so HOW are our responses so distant and neat?

In the moments where I’m struck by the gravity and the permanence of my mum’s absence, I’m MOST comforted by people who allow themselves to react as human beings, who are messy, real, and open.

It takes time to find the right words, but I have learned that rather than just saying "Deepest Condolences", and "Stay Strong," maybe reach out and be REAL, not robotic!

?The message? Life is fleeting; let’s atleast try to be more authentic!