Roberta Teller Reflects on the Death of her Parents

I always knew that at some time in my life, my parents would die.  It is kind of a given......the older generation dies out...........It’s the way things are supposed to be.  Now of course, I didn’t know when or how.  My mother and father weren’t sick with anything in particular,  They were in their late 80’s, living at home and caring for themselves....Well, in actuality, my mother really was my father’s caretaker.  She did the cooking, had someone come in and clean every other week, and drove around town for food, movies and some social events.  It’s true the burden of everyday life was on her shoulders, but I did actually assume that my mother would outlive my father, since he had 2 macular degenerations, was hard of hearing, had a history of  colon cancer and survived, had to have polyps removed regularly from his intestines. and was not surprisingly,  depressed.  

Well, life has a way of not working out the way you think.  While on a cruise in Mexico, my mother suddenly died of an aneurysm.  And while like I said earlier, I knew that this was inevitable, there’s no way to prepare for the absolute shock of it all.  I was supposed to be visiting them in Florida in just a few days........couldn’t she wait?????

There is something profoundly different between knowing (that it is inevitable) and the actuality of experiencing the death of a parent-especially your mother.  While, I will admit that my mother’s and my relationship was “complicated”, her death unraveled a lot of family glue and put me on an emotional  roller coaster ride that lasted for many years.  

Not surprisingly, and again shocking, my father died 11 months after my mother.  He had moved in with my sister who took amazing care of him.  He too died quickly, after suffering a heart attack at the Senior Center.

Some people say it’s a blessing to die quickly rather than to have to live through a long illness, or dementia. You don’t have to make those  critical and important decisions under duress and stress or spend a lot of time in the hospital or nursing home with feelings of guilt or blame or anger  Or sometimes having to compromise with family members who have differing opinions.  

My sister and I were spared that.  The life and death decisions were made for us.  Our parents died on their own.  We weren’t consulted or asked and didn’t have to make those end of life decisions that we probably would not have agreed upon.  

But I didn’t get to say good-bye to them.  I didn’t get to hold their hands or watch them take their last breath.  I didn’t get to see or feel their spirit linger as they left their bodies.   And, I never realized this before, but,  I regret that.