This past Summer I became an adult orphan when the only parent I had left, my mom, passed away (slightly) suddenly. My dad had already left this world decades ago, when I was just 19 years old. And lately, I find myself reflecting on how each parental death has affected me.
Loss of Dad, Half an Adult Orphan
I was 12 when my dad was diagnosed terminally ill with 3-5 years to love, but we lucky and got seven. I am the epitome of daddy’s lil’ girl and I idolize that man still. My dad was awesome. He would make ghost scarves fly across the room at my home held Halloween parties, transport me to school dances in the limo he drove on the side, and teach me to blow smoke rings after having quit smoking. My dad made sure I knew how to drive for the road test and for the real world (here in NY, those are two very different things). He was my hero. I would pray, my way, everyday that I could have him just one more day.
After my dad died, I was halfway to adult orphan status. I started to wonder, what does daddy’s little girl do when daddy dies? In my instance, I found out she becomes a damn good mamma’s girl! Once I had started turning dad’s death into inspiration to better myself, my relationship with my mom grew stronger. I worked harder to make up for all the unsuitable shenanigans I had partook in my teens and early twenty’s. Thankful for Lina, my BFF from HS for not giving up on me.
Letting Go of Mom & Becoming an Adult Orphan
My mom is one of the most altruistic people I have ever known, and I was lucky she was mine. She unselfishly cared for others as a nurse and my firstborn on her days off from the moment she was born. She had become one of my best friends. We always discussed her dream of moving near Disney World, her happy place, but she was always worrying about me and my only (at the time) child . When the time came for my mom to retire (and having her 3rd grand kid), she had the opportunity to move halfway closer to Mickey. I told her to follow her dreams. She earned it. I reminded her I would always be ok because I was raised me right. My parents taught me to always do what I had to survive, provide and care for my kid(s) and myself.
Tears streamed from my ten year old’s face. My gut was wrenching with knots inside the pit of my stomach. I choked down the absurd balling I wanted to release. But, I couldn’t, for my little. I watched my mom leave to rest her head 700 miles away. (It felt more like 7,000.)
Being the daughter of a nurse and having already watched a parent die, I am not naive to the inevitable. Mom knew this too. Months before her passing, we discussed more of what she’d prepped me for.
Father’s Day, was the last full sentences she spoke to me. She wished my kid’s dad’s (yes, I have two baby daddy’s), a Happy Father’s Day. The next day, I dropped it all to go sit by my mom’s side with my oldest offspring in tow for her final days. I became an adult orphan then.
What Defines an Orphan:
According to Merriam -Webster Online an orphan as a noun is defined in 4 different but the ones I relate to personally:
- a child deprived by death of one or usually both parents
- one deprived of some protection or advantage,
What Defines a Child:
Again, according to Merriam-Webster Online child has quite a few meanings, so I’ll just list the ones that I feel apply:
I do see both fitting.
The Realization
Despite my telling my mom I could only hope to be as strong as her, I never fully realized how much I relied on looking up to my mom, just like I had done with my dad in my childhood. There were no more 5 pm phone calls. There were no more discussion of the grand-kids shenanigans, and, no more adoring worry of the adult child that is myself. The realization of being the immediate genetic hierarchy for my kids was/is a shocking and somber thought. It ends with me (and their dads, but still, you get it). The people who I looked up to, who cared for me, would do anything to protect me…. are gone. I am an adult orphan learning to adult all over again.
-Allie