Tag: courage

Losing a second child

Written by Suraj Shah. Inspired by greatness.

It’s difficult enough losing one son. But to lose a second to the same medical condition — that’s not easy for any mother to deal with.

Earlier this week I spoke with the mother of a classmate who passed away. Her son was a decent guy, a talented musician and got on well with most people. When I read about his death in the school magazine, I attempted to make contact with his family via the school. His mother called me back.

My friend was 31 years old when he died. I had last spoken with him 15 years ago, but had lost touch with him since leaving school.

His mother explained that when his younger brother died due to the same medical condition, my friend’s health suddenly deteriorated too – almost as though he had given up hope.

But today’s post isn’t about hope or regaining lost hope. It is about the painful reality of a mother’s second loss.

So here we are, a mother who had lost two sons. There is of course a third son who lives, the eldest son. Some may indelicately state that “at least you still have him, your eldest son” — but that doesn’t make it any better. That doesn’t make the loss any less.

Some may say “at least both your sons are no longer suffering” — but that doesn’t make a mother’s loss any less either.

Others may still fumble “ok, it’s time now for you to get on with your life and make the most of what you have left” — but a mother’s loss takes time to deal with, to live out its course in its own natural time.

I’m reminded of the mother of another school friend (a friend who passed away in a car accident almost a decade ago). Since then she has become a grandmother, twice. But it doesn’t take away the loss of her son.

Family events will come and go. Families will expand and grow and transition through bad times and good. But a son lost will never be forgotten, nomatter how much outside forces may insist it should.

My thoughts right now are with all the mothers who have raised and lost. Lost through distance. Lost through misunderstandings. Lost through death.

A mother’s loss doesn’t get easier, regardless of how many times she experiences it. I hope that the suffering mothers in the world around us find some comfort and courage to feel lighter, to grow stronger, to live with love.

Regrets of the dying

Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Bronnie Ware, republished with permission from her blog Inspiration and Chai.

For many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives.

People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality. I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

It is very important to try and honour at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.

This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

Often they would not truly realise the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.

When you are on your deathbed, what others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.

(Photo courtesy of timsnell)

Bronnie Ware is an inspirational writer and songwriter from Australia. Her much-loved blog, Inspiration and Chai, has over a million readers a year. Based on this article, Bronnie has recently written a full-length book about her years working with dying people. It is full of personal stories of honesty and inspiration, and will be released in the second half of 2011. For more information, please visit her official site at www.bronnieware.com