Let the Guilt Go I wrote this reflection in May of 2022, and I feel it bears repeating and repeating… Last week as I was driving home from a support group meeting at Stephy’s Place when one of my favorite songs came on the radio, Billy Joel’s, Say Goodbye to Hollywood. The lyrics have always touched my heart with a wave of remembrance: “Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes, I’m afraid it’s time for goodbye again…” Singing along with Billy, I pulled into my parking spot when suddenly my mother’s beautiful face came clearly and directly into my vision. I often think of different loved ones who have passed away during this song, but this time it was my mom who has been gone since 2010. You may find it ironic that I, who walk with grieving people every day, have carried guilt about my mom’s passing these past twelve years. It hasn’t been debilitating guilt, but a twinge of guilt that simply comes to so many of us after a loved one’s death. My mother died of COPD, and as many of you painfully know, this is a slow and torturous way to leave the world. My mom was my best friend, and I tried so many things to help her, but in the end nothing worked. So, all these years I’ve had a very personal understanding of guilt because I carried it in the recesses of my heart. And it sucks. In some ways this guilt prevented me from truly cherishing the multitude of happy, beautiful memories that we shared. It was so unfair. Even though everyone deserves to be remembered for their life more than their death, sometimes in grief we’re unable to access the happy memories as the loss takes up so much room in our psyches. Over time, and doing the hard work of grief, we usually can access these memories which are our greatest treasures. And yet guilt has an insidious way of impeding these precious treasures. So, as I listened to the song and saw my mother’s soft, smiling face, I heard words clearly being spoken to me. Words that came from my mother, words from the Other Side, words which would change my grief completely, and words I strongly feel that I need to share with everyone I possibly can. I firmly believe that these words are for all of us, not just me, so I wrote them down and memorized them:
“Don’t let the end of my life define my entire life, or our entire relationship. You provided me with some of my most precious memories. Let the guilt go.”
When I got out of my car, I felt like I was walking on air. The guilt was gone. I smiled and laughed and remembered in a flash all the wonderful cruises and trips, the holidays and meals, the plays and concerts, and I felt the sheer joy for having shared a life of memories and love with such a special and amazing person. What a Mother’s Day gift my mother gave to me!
What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes part of us. Hellen Keller
I hope and pray that my mom’s message may in some way give you some consolation wherever you may be in your grief journey. Yes, for some of us it may take twelve years, for others twelve minutes. It will be different for us all. But simply knowing that healing is real and possible can put fuel into our tank to move forward one step, one day at a time.
Don’t let the end of their life define their entire life, or your entire relationship.