Losing Mum: Lessons in Love and Loss

On the 18th of January 2024 I had a call that would change my life forever. It was from my Dad telling me that Mum had had a fall and was in A&E. It was completely out of the blue. Whilst old at 86 she was fit and well and I’d only just spoken to her days before. On arrival I learnt she had fractured her skull and was suffering a bleed on the brain which wasn’t survivable. ?All we could do is wait and be with her while her body shut down which took the next two days. ?

It’s been several months since her passing. We’ve been through the inquest, the funeral, the scattering of her ashes and are now piecing together what a life looks like without her. So, I thought I’d share what I’m learning along the way in case it might help or resonate with someone else. Parental bereavement isn’t something that’s widely spoken about in society or the workplace. As a Families ERG Co-Chair for Microsoft UK I think it’s important to be open and honest about all aspects of family life so here goes.

Leaning into the Grief.

As a woman, we’re told to lean into a lot. To careers, motherhood, fitness, ideals of beauty, the list goes on. But who leans into pain willingly? I know I don’t.

The drive from when Dad called me to reaching the hospital took two hours. It was two hours when I could enter a bubble where my life didn’t fall apart. Where I didn’t hurt so much I felt it physically, and where I didn’t have to figure out how to live without her. I knew that getting out of the car at the other end was going to burst that bubble. And it did.

Daily I’m tempted to try and recreate that bubble and numb the pain. But I can’t if I am to move forward. I know she wouldn’t want me to hurt, but she’d also tell me to smile and look on the bright side of life (she literally chose that song for her funeral). My pain is a price of my love. So as much as it hurts, I wouldn’t swap one second of it for the time we had together and for the love we felt. So, I try and go with it. Sometimes it’s not convenient like if a trigger comes whilst I’m working or out and about I may park it, but I always try and come back to it and to feel it because that’s one of the only ways I can heal. I also try to be kind to myself, to figure out what I need (a cry, a hug, a glass of wine or to talk to a friend) and do that without remorse or self-judgement.

Death isn’t scary

I’ve been afraid of death as long as I’ve been conscious of the phenomenon. So much so that I read a book a while back called “With the End in Mind” by Dr Kathryn Mannix, a specialist in palliative care. It talked through real life examples of death and how it could be peaceful process. I didn’t really believe it, how could it? Now dying in a busy A&E ward (there were no private rooms available which is a whole different story) isn’t peaceful. But what it gave me is time to tell my Mum the things I wanted to say, to hold her hand, to care for her and to say goodbye. Being with her to the very end has been (alongside the birth of my son) the greatest privilege of my life. I’d recommend reading the book and trusting the expert!

Looking after yourself & and letting others do so

I’m incredibly fortunate that Microsoft benefits gives us access to counselling. I’ve had an initial session but decided it was too early in my grieving process and I’ll revisit that when I’m ready. But I am allowing my family and friends to look after me when I need it. I’ve always been a very independent person, but this experience is like nothing I’ve been through. So, using my network of support is crucial. Letting people see me grieve is part of that; it’s a deeply connecting experience to allow others to see you at your most vulnerable.

I also don’t shy away from telling people. I mean I don’t tell everyone. But when I feel comfortable, I tell people. ?It’s amazing how many then tell me about their own loss or simply just offer kind words and support.

I sleep. People talk about time healing all wounds. Actually, it’s sleep. ?REM sleep has been shown to re-wire the brain and allow you to process negative memories. ?Dr Chatterjee did a great podcast on this with Matthew Walker on His Feel Better, Live More series.

I’ve also gone back to exercise. I stopped briefly as I’ve been exhausted and quite frankly, I couldn’t face the gym. But re-starting running and gym classes are helping me feel better physically, which in turn allows me to better handle the complex emotions I face daily. ?It’s also giving me routines to help deal with this unexpected new life I’m leading.

Life goes on but differently.

When a parent first dies everyone is really caring and supportive. Then of course the vast majority get on with their lives. It’s your tribe that continue to ask check in and ask how you are.

The truth is life does go on, but differently. A massive part of your life is no longer there no matter what your relationship was like. I still go to call Mum at times then remember, I can’t. I’m learning to talk to my Dad more, he’s learning to bake. Life is different.

So I’m having to learn new things, to “find a new normal” as they say and to re-find the meaning and beauty in life. To honour my Mum’s legacy by living an authentic life and use this experience to build compassion and create connections. To take everything she taught me and to live true to that as much as I can every day. Because that is how I pay homage to the woman she was and the life and love she gave me.

Oh, and one last thing

Hold your loved ones extra close. They are who and what matters above everything else. ?