“Keep your face always toward the sunshine – and shadows will fall behind you.” Walt Whitman
My husband Scott lost his remaining parent less than two weeks after I lost my remaining parent. At this point, my husband and I have become professional criers.
Does death travel in threes?
Our family has been walloped—the loss of my dad, who seemed eternally youthful at 99. My mom did not want to be in a world without my dad; she passed four months later, and now my husband’s mom went without a fuss less than two weeks after my mom’s passing.
Greif times three. What is left are stories of when they were on this earth with us. Some stories of before we came into this world. Stories we now have, that is it. It feels harsh not being able to extract more stories from all of them, but so be it.
Starting the process of mourning loss has looked different, and the same for both Scott and I. Scott grew close to my folks over the past eight years as we spent quality time with them. My dad taught us how to play bridge, and had many laughs around the bridge table.
Mary was a horsewoman through and through. West Coast Champion Showing Hackney ponies in her 70s is absolutely remarkable! That brought her to the Grand National Competition in Louisville, Kentucky.
She, like my mom, stayed home to raise her children. Horsewomen have a way of doing things of being quiet bosses with a no-nonsense approach to life. We, horsewomen, fear little; we know how to handle things, and that was Scott’s mom. Even though she was tough and could handle horses and hackney ponies, she was simply sweet.
In her later years, dementia grabbed hold of her. I saw the decline and felt the sorrow each visit as she quietly slipped further and further away from us. I remember spending a day alone with her at her lovely retirement facility.
Mary said to me,
“I don’t know you, but I like you!”
I replied,
“I like you too; we are horsewomen!”
I never corrected her and told her I was her daughter-in-law. I just met her in the space where her life presented itself in the moment.
Scott would rub her shoulders and kiss her head as she oohed and awed. I did not see an angry moment with her; she just became sweeter and sweeter.
For those of you who knew Mary Teter, I am also sorry for your loss. I know she is in a better place, and there is solace in that.
My Mantra: “I am blessed I knew you Mary”
Join Sex•Love•Mantra Newsletter!
Monthly Dating Stories and Advice
Thank you for your continued love and support
