lonely deaths.

[serafaery]

one of the most painful aspects of my parents' deaths is that there is just no one left to care at all, besides my brother and myself. it's an incredibly painful burden.

we have no extended family, no friends who care anymore, the step-family is only peripherally connected to her and never really accepted her in the first place (she kind of didn't let them), one of her piano students emailed me when she died, that's about it.

mom pushed everyone she knew away before she fell ill, with bad behavior, alcohol, and straight up cruelty and telling them to get out of her life (including disowning me, and taking out a restraining order on her husband, my step-dad, after he moved out when he couldn't tolerate her drinking and outbursts and wild overspending anymore). She had dementia for the following ten years, after she lost the house, and even though she may have wanted to, there was very little way for any of her old friends to reconnect with her in a meaningful way, at least, it wouldn't have been easy or meaningful or comfortable for them. So none of them came back. She had such an incredible network of friends and admirers that it's just really painful and sad to think about what failures people can be, in times of need. but dementia is hard, too hard for most people to deal with.

everyone abandoned her, and us, when she needed them the most.

so it's just me and my brother, to hold her ashes, to hold onto photos and books and knick knacks and little scraps of memories, of times filled with so much love and joy and hope. filled with music and stories, dance and history, wisdom and pragmatic skills, all lost, except what little shreds we hold in our hearts, alone.

Comments

[kahluagal]

I think about this all the time now - how so many of us don't have extended families, and I'm scared of ending up alone and broken. I keep thinking of moving to Vancouver Island and find a collective feminist household somewhere but don't know what on earth skills I have to make that happen.