My Grief Journey

I remember when the phone rang. I was at work; I let it go to voicemail. It was a doctor from a Hospital in Basel, Switzerland, telling me my mom had been heliported to their hospital and was in an induced coma. She had contracted sepsis and had a very high chance of not surviving. Fourty-eight hours later, she was gone. My heart broke into a million pieces. My world stopped.

One month before my mom’s death, she was hospitalized due to a fall. She was only seventy years young. In her later years, she was having difficulties with depression due to several factors. One of them was having a very toxic relationship with her siblings.

After having a lengthy conversation with her doctor and (most importantly) knowing that my mom didn’t want to be kept sustained on life support merely to be kept alive, I had to make the gut-wrenching decision to let her go peacefully. Her medical condition was too far gone as the infection had spread to one of her heart valves.

My sweet mom passed away on August 23rd, 2023 at 1642 hours, Swiss time. I was with her, phone to her ear, and told her how much I loved her and that we were going to see each other again one day. What came after that is fuzzy, as if my body, heart and soul were highjacked by a heaviness that I cannot describe, and it was like being in slow motion.

My mom passed away ten days before my wedding. It should have been the happiest day of my life. I was robbed of that. I was in such a fog and still in shock. I tried putting on a brave face but all I wanted was to be left alone and be in bed. Of course, I am happy to be married to my wonderful husband but facing a first-degree loss literally paralyses you. (I will explain how the brain reacts to loss in a future post). I remember my wedding day, but it felt like I was on the sidelines watching a movie.

In November 2023, I had to take a trip to Switzerland to take care of my mom’s estate. I still don’t know how I got it done. I was terrified. I think that the state of shock and brain fog enabled me to be on autopilot. I had so much to do during the two weeks I was there. I am so grateful to have found a local business that specializes in emptying houses. They did all the heavy lifting while I was able to spend time at my mom’s house deciding what I was going to keep which is, by the way, an impossible task. My mom lived there since I was two years old. Her whole life was within these walls; my whole childhood was still there with my room still intact. Being at mom’s house by myself, the silence was deafening. While going through the sentimental mounds of “stuff,” I found pictures and other items dating back to when I was a baby. I laughed, I wailed, fell completely apart.

I played my favorite music, I lit candles, I burned sage. I was trying to pay tribute to my mom and our home one last time. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was processing my grief by doing things I enjoyed doing with my mom. While growing up, we spent countless hours listening to music and burning candles! It was our thing!

After I returned home to the States, I had such a feeling of relief- I had survived this awful trip. Christmas was only a few weeks away. I was dreading the first Christmas without my mom in my world. The anticipation of the holidays was worse than the actual day, but still….

Once the holidays were over, my heart and soul got even heavier. Now that I had handled the trip, the holidays, the estate, what was left to be done? I realized that now I have to live the rest of my life without my mom. I have to sit with my feelings. After the first few months, the shock and brain fog started to lift and slowly realizing that this “situation” is permanent.

I am still grieving and I don’t think I will ever stop. Whether we are newly grieving or twenty years later, there is no expiration date on grieving. There is no “fixing” grief. We don’t move on- we learn to continue our lives without our loved one in it.

Unfortunately, our society is uncomfortable with grief and does not know how to process it. I think it is because we were never taught how to grieve and how to support one another. It is very simple yet complicated at the same time. Grief is unique for everyone, but there are similarities in how we move through the non-linear process of grief.

I want to utilize my story, the most painful event of my life, and turn it into Hope. Hope that there is better tomorrow, that with allowing grief to be witnessed and heard, we can move forward. Hope that through sharing what I have learned and the tools I was given, I can support others in their grief journey with compassion and understanding.