All of a sudden, in an instant, you are nobody’s daughter. You no longer have the 2 people who were always in your corner to rely on when you are down. You no longer have the wisdom that living over 90 years brings. You no longer have the people who you yell at when you are frustrated and they love you anyway, telling you they understand your frustration. In an instant, life as you know it, changes.
Of course, you are always someone’s daughter, that is understood. But when whoever raised you and treated you like the most important person around is no longer physically alive, you feel as if you are alone in the world. It actually hits you like a train barreling down the tracks. You know you will grieve for the loss of your parent, but you don’t realize the depth of that grief and pain until that train hits you. People may have explained that to you over the years, but it is something you never really understand until it happens.
Each day at certain times, the phone goes in the hand to make that call to say “hi dad, how was today?” Each day you think about what you would love their opinion on, what problem you would like them to help you with, or just to chat about your day. My dad loved to hear about my pup, Charlie. He would always ask me how he was and what was he doing. He loved to hear about the mischief Charlie would get into and how Charlie and my kitty Lucy were getting along. Dad was a worrier, about me. Actually both my parents were. I would call them daily and if for some reason I missed a day, one of them would call me the next day to check in on me. Whoever called would invariably blame the other one for the call, “I wanted to make sure you were okay, you know your father, ” mom would say. Once I lost mom, Dad and I spoke daily no matter what. I never missed a day, even when I traveled. In fact, my parents were the first called made whenever I landed somewhere, no matter the time. Now knowing there is nobody who will worry about me that way, care if I landed, care if I am okay is so very strange.
I have family who loves me and friends who care, it isn’t about that. Along with my siblings, I was the most important person to my parents. Now I am nobody’s most important person and that is a very lonely feeling. It makes missing them even more intense.
I don’t know if any of us ever realize just how important our parents are to who we are and where we are in life until they are gone. Although my relationships were excellent and I do not feel as if anything ever went unsaid, I wonder if they knew just how much I relied on them, just how much I wanted them to be proud of me and the person I became, just how much I really loved them, their ideas, opinions and love. You think you have said it all and told them, and then you wonder. Did they really know the depth of that love? If I had one more day with each of them, were there things I would have said that they may not have known? Or things I may have said that ensured they did understand that depth? I may never know.
Remember to say what you need or want to say to people. Tell them the depth of your love. Tell them what they mean to you, for one day you may wake up and find you are nobody’s daughter.