Losing Your Mother In Midlife: Grief, Legacy, And The Love That Remains

Positive Aging Thought Leader: Maria Leonard Olsen

I lost my mother unexpectedly this summer, after she suffered a fall that fractured her neck and damaged her spinal cord. She was in her 80s and had survived quadruple bypass surgery and other hardships, but still lived independently. I was not ready to say goodbye.

Losing Your Mother In Midlife Is Like Losing A Lifeline:

Losing your mother is an unmooring. One’s mother is, for most people, the longest relationship a person has with another human. Most of us join this club at some point in our lives.

I called her several times a week and keep wanting to call her to tell her about something, then remember that I can no longer do that. I hope it is true that she can still hear me talking to her. I do believe that our souls live on after we die.

My mom and I were close. We traveled together a lot and had several trips planned for the future. She had finally agreed to move in with me, even though she relished her independence. She wanted me to put an addition onto my house first, and we were in the initial planning stages when she passed.

She adored my children. In fact, she supplanted me with my kids in her affections. But that was ok with me.

And they adored her. My children called her Lola, the Filipino term for grandmother. My mom spoiled my children with her generosity. Their relationships were uncomplicated by discipline and other matters that can cause strain in a parent-child relationship. My grief over losing her was compounded by watching my children suffer as we watched her die.

A Grandmother, A Star, A Force Of Joy:

My ebullient mother became a bit famous in recent years, as my social media influencer son featured her in his TikToks seen by millions. You can watch their antics @Chris on TikTok and @ChrisOlsen on Instagram. A few stars and many fans lamented her passing with online messages and comments.

Sometimes she was recognized in public as a TikTok star. She reveled in the attention. My son once brought her onstage at a large concert venue where he was opening for pop star Meghan Trainor. My mom toddled onto the stage and hammed it up for the crowd. She loved every minute. On her deathbed, she said she wanted to do it again and joked that her fans missed her.

She kept her sense of humor to the end, joking that she wanted a caramel frappuccino. She was, however, ready to go. She never wanted to burden us and was mostly paralyzed by the fall. I am fortunate that she was able to express her readiness while she was in the hospital. She had not left an advance health care directive or living will.

Finding Humor, Even In Grief:

Grief is amorphous. It grabs me unexpectedly and sometimes at inopportune times. It is like a huge bubble within me that sometimes diminishes, but sometimes bumps up against the sides, causing me acute pain.

I learned that laughter and sorrow can co-exist. My mom had a very silly side and memories of it pop into my mind. My children and siblings shared funny stories about her at her burial that bonded us further. Shared grief can indeed bring people closer.

Her memory is a blessing. I was lucky to have her as my mom. We are all imperfect humans, but she did her best. She passed on traits of resourcefulness, generosity and resiliency to me, and I am so grateful. I know her legacy will live on through me and my relatives.

I will need that resourcefulness to settle her estate and close all of her accounts. My brother and I are co-executors of her estate. Each state has specified tax rates and procedures for estate settlement. I am grateful that my mother made many of her assets jointly held by her and either me or my brother, to keep those assets out of the probate process.

But her death left a huge hole in my life. I know she would want me to fill that hole with joy, and I am endeavoring to do that. Going through the grieving process also brought me closer to my adult children and siblings. I think death is a reminder to drink fully from the cup of life, to forgive and to tell those you love how you feel about them. I guess that could be a silver lining of this loss.

What Grief Demands, And What It Teaches:

Rabbi Earl A. Grollman became a grief expert while counseling others. He says, “Grief is not a disorder, a disease or sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.” I will pay this price for the great love I have for my mother.

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