I know. I read a
lot of the same author. I can’t help
it. When someone writes a good story,
then you expect them to do the same with everything they have written. Unfortunately for you all, I am focusing less
on the story itself and more with the one aspect that I related to within
it. The loss of a parent. There is so much more to this story than that
one aspect, but it is the one thing that, for now, I want to discuss.
Mickey
is a high school boy who up until recently had traveled the world with his
nomadic, do-gooder parents. Tragically,
his father dies in a car crash soon after his parents make the decision that
for Mickey’s sake they need to find a place and settle down. Mickey’s mom loses it because of her loss and
becomes an addict who has to spend time in rehab. The aftermath of a death, especially a
significant death to you, is never pretty.
We each grieve in our own ways, move forward in our own ways, and often
expect others to do both in the same way as we ourselves.
Fact is,
the loss is something that never leaves you.
You do, in time, find yourself able to function. Unfortunately, those dreams and expectations
that you had built in your relationship with the person never leave you. Mickey’s loss was his father. You can tell through reading the novel that
this loss has left a significant imprint on him. He yearns for his father to be back in his
life. Little things like basketball or
his dad’s computer remind him of what is gone, what will never come back, and
the task of accepting those things.
The loss of my mother has
left a significant imprint on me as well.
If you see me and somewhat know me, you would not even notice
anything. To the outside eye, I hide the
emotional machinations of my heart quite well.
It has been a bit over a year at
this point. You would think time would
cause you to accept certain things about someone’s death. As of yet, it does not. Yes, I accept that she is gone. I will not see her or hear her voice or hug
her as long as I am still here. It is a
lot harder to accept that she won’t see me ever in love. Meet the man who has captured my heart. Help me pick out my wedding dress. Talk to me
about what it means to be a wife. See me say I do and make a lifelong
commitment to that man. Get excited as I
announce that I am pregnant. Comfort me
during those times that I am not thrilled with being pregnant. Be in the hospital room as I am waiting to
give birth. Holding my baby for the
first time. Being the grandmother that I
know she can be to my children as well as my brother’s. Those dreams won’t ever come true. Those losses are much harder to accept. They are the thoughts that in my most quiet
moments enter my mind. They are what
cause me to have been far more emotional in this past year and a half then
probably my entire life.
Death changes you. For Mickey, it causes him to step up and take
on the mantle that his father modeled for him.
For me, I am not so sure. I look
to my mom and the woman she was. I see
so much in her that I wish I could be.
Non-judgmental. Non-critical. Accepting. Loving the hard to love. I am not as good at that. I can only aspire to be like that
someday.
