When Parents Pass Away, How Do We Continue?

This post is in honor of my mother, Arbie Etherton. The anniversary of the day God called her home is January 11, 1987. In a lot of ways it hard to believe it happened 27 years ago. I still remember that cold Sunday in January.

We never got to say goodbye. We said, "see you later. We will be back soon." All these years later and it still gets to me that I never got to say good-bye to my parents. I stop and wonder what life would be like had cancer not robbed her from me. I wonder if I would be the person I am today if my mother were still alive. How would I be different?

During the middle of 8th grade, my mother passed away. At first everything seemed like an impossible dream. A really bad dream. That one day I would wake up and things would be back like they were before the cancer. But that never happened.

I have always been a quiet person. Don't rock the boat so to speak. I did my best to please my teachers. Many years later I returned to my hometown for my high school 20 year reunion. Some things remain the same. Popular kids are still popular and most people said nice things to me. One thing changed forever though. My parents are no longer on earth. I can't see them when I go back to my hometown. The church in my small town is still there. Lots of memories there and still, different now... my parents are no longer on this earth.

In the days that passed since that cold January day in 1987 when God called my mom home, I was living on auto-pilot so to speak. I remember going day by day with a terrible mood in school. I walked with my head down, and never to rarely said a word. I tried to hide behind my long hair. It worked a lot. Most people left me alone. I was a "good kid". Did not get in trouble. Buried my sorrow in my school work.

I remember dreaming of leaving my hometown to go to college. Start over where people didn't know me, didn't pity me. That I could pretend that I am normal, but I am not. It helped a little bit to be away when I studied at college. However, I had a very hard time growing up. I couldn't decide what I wanted to be when I grow up. I changed my major from accounting to music therapy to finally special education. In the process I accumulated over 200 undergraduate hours. By the time I finally earned a bachelor's degree I didn't feel like it was something to celebrate.

After several years I made this realization. It was a process to reach this point.

You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived. You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back, or you can open your eyes and see all she's left. Your heart can be empty because you can't see her, or you can be full of the love you shared. You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday. You can remember her only that she is gone, or you can cherish her memory and let it live on. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back. Or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.