Thankful for the pain

Since returning from my time in Tasmania to Mum's house in Sydney, I have been hit with fresh waves of grief and sorrow. Every morning I wake up and sob, because I miss Mum so intensely.

A little while ago, someone very rightly pointed out that my grief, and sense of loss, are so intense because my love for Mum, and the closeness of our relationship were also very strong. When my father died (just over five years ago now), a friend also pointed out that I was very fortunate that there were no great unresolved issues between us, and therefore no regrets, when he died. 

So in a way I am doubly blessed, that my relationships with both parents were so good and loving, that I am able to enjoy a 'pure' kind of grief; where the intensity of my sorrow is due solely to the fact that I miss them so much, and is not tainted with any kind of regret or ambivalence.

It's often easy to take for granted the relationships we have. Of course, my relationship with Mum and Dad was not always perfect, and we had our conflicts, especially in my teens (doesn't everyone?), and in my early twenties, when I made choices about the direction of my life that my parents didn't necessarily agree with. But, through my whole life, I never ever doubted that Mum and Dad both loved me, made huge sacrifices in their own lives for my benefit, and always did their best to be good parents (and the few mistakes they might have made were honest mistakes).

As I said, it's easy to take such things for granted, and think that the healthy, close relationship I enjoyed with my parents is 'the norm'. But when I look at some of the people I know, I realise that this is not necessarily the case. Some friends never had the opportunity to develop such a relationship, as one or both of their parents were chronically ill, or died when they were young. For others, there has been estrangement, or a less intense sense of never feeling 'good enough' to live up to parental expectations.

I feel for these friends, whom I fear will never have the opportunity to grieve with the same bitter-sweet intensity with which I am now grieving. Of course, at one level it would be much easier for me to not have to feel these intense feelings of grief and loss (and it would be cheaper on tissues too). But the intensity of the pain reflects the intensity of the love, and my life is much richer for experiencing both of these.