Proud of My Graduate, but Missing My Mother

Thank you, Dr. Klass, for this validation of longing for our parents. As a 77 year-old, happily married grandmother of 6 I still miss my parents, both during joyous occasions and quiet moments I wish they could share, and when I'm feeling the inevitable vulnerability of aging.

One thing, that makes it a little bit better is to think that you did right by your parents. You survived them. Hopefully your children will do this for you as well. Sad as it is to lose a parent, losing a child must be immeasurably worse, I would imagine.

I appreciated this article. My only daughter just graduated HS and it made me stop and realize how different the experience was for me, with both my parents attending, than it was for my husband, with both of his parents now long gone, and it opened the door to a good conversation.

I have followed your writing since your first columns, and am tending towards mush myself. Congratulations, Dr. Klass.

Hoo boy. Reading this very lovely and heartfelt essay with lump in my throat. My wonderful mother is surely more precious to me than all the jewels in the world. She chose me, saved me, from an Malaysian orphanage many moons ago. Without her, I am nothing. I cannot, will not, can't even BEAR the idea of life without her in it, being her amazing, generous, lovely self. My sisters certainly feel the same way. I don't even know how the world will keep spinning when she is gone.

I would love to see the times stop using stock images. When they do photo commission well, no one does it better. Please commission more images even for articles like this one.

My father had a heart attack 36 hours after I, the last child of 5, graduated college 30 years ago. There were two graduation ceremonies at my university... one for individual colleges and then a mass "university" ceremony. Friends decided we should buy some liquid refreshments to get us through the long ceremonial day, but with a cloak and mortarboard I had no purse on me. I asked my father if he could spare a twenty. Eerily the last photo of us together is one my brother snapped of that moment when my dad gave me the bill, and my brother's hauntingly comical commentary still lurks: "Gotta get this ! The last time Dad will ever give you cash!" In a few months my eldest son will be 22, the age I was when I lost my father. Bittersweet indeed.

I think of this all the time..my father died in 1980 so never saw any of my 2 daughter's milestones, graduation, music, dance, sports, going away to college. He was a 2 job working WW2 vet and we lived in the 60's with one car in a 2 family house that we owned through his mother. My mother died in Sept 2014 but got to see a lot up to one high school graduation and leaving for college..my youngest was a senior in high school so she did not experience the last transition. Still I am grateful and have so many pictures of her at events. I wonder what I and my wife will see..at 61 it is not a given that I will see even graduation from high school as it will be a few year until I am a grandfather so add 18 to that and I am in mid 80s. Then I think of my father who saw nothing and was dead by my age and the word "carpe diem" comes to mind. Great article

My mom and dad just died, thirty days apart. My mother in law died last summer. Graduations, birthdays, holidays and all other manner of celebrations now strike me as times to gird myself to compartmentalize the grief and try to focus on the joy of the instant happy day. Having recently lost a brother and sister, its tougher and tougher to deal with.

Thanks for this universal tale of honest emotion.

One week ago I graduated with my doctorate degree and although I felt tremendous joy I also felt an overwhelming sense of loss. My mother passed a young 54- unable to see this moment or the birth of her twin granddaughters. And as I exited the graduation stage, I waved at my girls and husband, my dad and sister, I imagined my mother- proud. I felt her absence more than ever. Thank you for the article.

The pain that comes with grief is like the waves in the ocean. It can be an even constant presence or sometimes a storm makes the waves rocky and huge.
Weddings, graduations, births and certainly funerals trigger our grief. And sometimes out of nowhere something baking in the oven or a piece of music brings up our painful loss.
I am about to become a grandmother for the first time. Oh how I wish all the people I have lost could be here now!

Thank you for sharing these truly relatable emotions. And yet as you say each of us experiments a pain that feels unique.

It has taken me a long time for the sweetness of my mother's memory to accompany me in these occasions, without anger prevailing.

Anger for what? Death is the most natural event, generation change a means of survival for our species, and my mother did not die a violent or unnatural death.

Still, for many years, the though that my niece was growing up without the experience of her grandmother's love seemed an injustice. And celebrations of life passage meaningless without her - as a non religious family, we have few compulsory rituals anyhow.

Writers like Patti Smith helped to me to focus on summoning her ghost and the ghosts of a few others, and to imagine what she would say and cherish her memory and her presence, rather than mark her absence, in moments of joy.

I lost my mother in 2000 and I think of her everyday; she missed so many of my children's milestones: both high school and college graduations and this summer, the wedding of her only granddaughter. She will be with me then, in my heart and my memory.

Many of us have lost a middle-aged spouse or a child, in addition to lost parents and therefore have little sympathy generated by articles about people whose only grief is for parents who lived a long life.

There is something about graduations that give us a sense of reality and of the surreal. Both are related to - "where has the time gone?"

This gives us the opportunity to reflect and move forward the very best we can, and hope for the very best we want and need to help create....for others and ourselves.

Great article.

This is a lovely piece. There are metaphorical holes in the pictures of my wedding where my father should have been; he died suddenly and appallingly young (at 53, doing yard work) a couple of months before the event. What my children cannot understand is that my references to him are not morbid (something they accuse me of being when I reflect on his absence of almost 40 years from all our lives) but rather a way of recalling him and bringing him into the many family events he would never see. They never knew him, but I think they need to hear that he is never far from my thoughts. This is something they will not understand until they undergo similar loss(es); there is simply no way to describe the loss to anyone who has not experienced it. My hope is that when I die, I will be sufficiently elderly so that we can all agree that my death is sad but not tragic. His death at 53 was tragic, and I have never recovered.

My father died in 1971 when I was just 23. I had recently returned from service in the Army and was attending college. I had a younger sister and two younger brothers. My sister was a junior at American University. My youngest brother was just 9 years old and my other was a sophomore in high school. Dad was just 49. We all went on to graduate, marry, have families and children.
To say that we miss dad is an understatement. My sister and I are retired now. We've watched our children grow, graduate from high school, college and then marry. My brother too, married and have families.
There have been weddings and births and lots of joy. And great sorrow too. Mom never remarried. She did get to see us on our adventures through life and to enjoy our happiness. Mom is 94. She never remarried.
My children and grandchildren will never know my dad. They will never have the wonderful moments that can only come from a proud grandfather and great grandfather. My brothers and sister and I miss our dad every day. We know what is missing at every occasion; every graduation, wedding and new birth.
Dad would have been very proud of all us. He would have smiled and reveled in the joy of each wedding and birth. Dad would have enjoyed himself and would have been filled with joy to be with our mom and enjoy life. He would have been very proud and filled with love for all of us.
Oh, how I wish he were here. I wish he was here to watch us, to hold us and take the hands of our children.

I was just at a family graduation missing all the aunts and uncles but celebrating their amazing families and grandchildren. I am about to be come the oldest of the older generation. Missed my father very much last night so much so that he showed up on my dreams later that night. It was nice to catch a glimpse of him.

it's taken a long time and I still miss my parents at these and even smaller, but just as import, family events. But what has eclipsed everything else is the death of my husband, from a sudden and unexpected illness. He's gone 2 1/2 years and left behind so many who miss him. For me the worst is those special moments like the pre-k show that our twin grandchildren just had two weeks ago. He would have been overjoyed. There will never be a moment at these types of events that I will not miss him.

The milestone that passed that affected me the most wasn't the graduations of my children; it was the marriage of my brother to a wonderful woman my mother never met. A few years after my mother died, my brother met my sister-in-law. It wasn't until I started dress shopping for the wedding that I realized who was missing. Like your father, my mother died unexpectedly (in 1989). I was so shocked by the suddenness of my mother's death that I believe I reeled more than mourned. However, when my brother got married four years later, the floodgates opened. It was an interesting milestone - very much like your child's graduation - because it mixed the two overwhelming emotions of loss and celebration simultaneously.

Carrying our memories of people long gone while celebrating the accomplishments of those before us is what makes us human. Thank you, Dr. Klass, for continuing to write so eloquently about our complex life cycle.

This is so, so lovely - and oh how it resonates. In the last five years I have lost two parents and had family on two separate sides crumble away as a result of those deaths. The landscape of our lives has completely transformed. Milestones that my children reach without our absent loved ones seem so bittersweet it's often barely tolerable. And the most jarring realization is what a private club we are in; if it hasn't happened to you yet you have no idea.

For me it's Mother's Day. My own mother died just a few days after Mother's Day in 2009. That means some years the anniversary of her death is on the holiday itself. She didn't live to meet my own child, who was born in 2013. Every year I try to be happy and celebrate with my husband and my daughter, since as a mother that's what I'm supposed to do, but mostly miss my own mother, and mourn for my little girl who will never know her.

I'm getting married in a few months and my father has passed many years ago and won't be there that day. As excited I am to get married there is also a huge dread knowing how painful that day will be. This article helped a bit, I'm not alone.

My dad died just before I turned 15. He was deeply involved in every pursuit of mine, but I couldn't celebrate a single meaningful event with him.

But ever since I had children something beautiful has happened. I see him in myself. And that's a beautiful thing because I ain't going nowhere from myself.

This month marks the 10th anniversary of my daughter's high school graduation. She died, at age 24, in Dec 2014. I miss my parents, who both died in 2014 too, but I'd trade a week of time with either of them for another hour with my only child, gone these 3 years. Losing a parent is sad. Losing a child, especially an only child, is indescribably cruel. The pain and loss never fades, never diminishes, never recedes.

Thank you for the touching essay. I lost my mother shortly before my graduate school graduation and couldn't fully enjoy the experience because of constantly missing her presence. At my wedding a year later, her absence was also never far from my mind. Oddly, it is both relieving and slightly disheartening to learn that even people with more years and maturity than me feel the same way I do. I suppose we never fully recover from great loss and just try and overpower it with joy.

I read this during what I think of as my "mother season:" Mothers Day, the anniversary of her birth a week later, and the third anniversary of her death two weeks after that. Like so many things you have written, you completely captured this moment in my life.
I agree, the literature on loss can't prepare us for the experience of living without our parents. Once the loss has occurred, however, finding these words, that articulate this particular combination of joy and sadness, is invaluable. Thank you, Dr. Klass.

I lost my mother in 2007 and she missed my son's college graduation, one daughter's Medical School graduation and the other's Master's graduation. My daughter had babies in 2015 and a week ago and I so want to call my mom and say, "I get it now!"

My mother was a widow at 26 and never wanted to remarry. She died 1995. This article is beautiful. When when we lose our parents we lose those who loved us best and my mother is always in my heart. i like to believe she is with me in spirit; as we grow much older we will love our parents even more .

My mother passed away at the age of 59 after a long battle with breast cancer. I never imagined being in my thirties and living without my mom. Even though it's been 6 years since she has died I miss her terribly. My mom was a single parent so growing up you don't realize what an impact it has on you once that only parent passes away. I will be graduating college next year and even though I am proud of my accomplishments, and I know she would be proud, I'm profoundly saddened at the thought of not hearing her voice or seeing her face in the crowd. Thank you for this article as it brings me great comfort to know that this grief is not only my burden to carry.

I read this during what I think of as my "mother season": Mothers Day, followed a week later by the anniversary of her birth, followed two weeks later by the third anniversary of her death. Like so many things you have written, your article perfectly captured this moment in my life.

I agree, the literature on loss cannot prepare us for what it means to lose our parents. Once the loss has occurred, however, writing like this, that so clearly identifies and articulates that combined feeling of joy and sadness, is invaluable. Thank you, Dr. Klass.

I read your essay with interest because I am attending my nephew's wedding in July. His father (my brother) died suddenly of a heart attack 3 years ago. I hope I don't cry for my missing brother at his son's wedding.

As a graduate of Brooklyn College, January '63 ( i changed majors in upper Junior years) I can totally relate to this extraordinary essay. I was the first in our Italian-American family to graduate from college, and had my parents in attendance at the graduation ceremonies, and they were thrilled, delighted and, most of all....proud. I was the milestone in our families progress in America! Both are long gone, and I've had the pleasure of attending my own daughter's commencement from college. She also has a Masters from NYU, so I'm doubly blessed. And, to boot, works for a very socially responsible liberal organization that mirrors what both of us hold dear in our lives. My folks would be proud!

So beautifully written, and so completely true. When my mother died in 2009, the word that came to my mind as I mourned for her was 'gobsmacked'. I literally had no idea how utterly complete the loss of one's mother is, and how terribly it hurts. My son was married five weeks to the day after her death, and though I celebrated and took joy in his wedding, there was such an enormous hole in my emotional space, that I could not share that joy with my mother. My daughter will be getting married in a few months, and though it's been seven years since Mom passed, I will miss her presence just as much at that wedding, as well.

Thank you. You have allowed my mind to be flooded with wonderful memories of my mother and all the quirky and affectionate remarks she would make to my children.

How appropriate to read this on the evening on the day when we Jews attend yiskor services when we remember those who came before us and no longer share this world. All deaths are sad whether those of 90 year olds of clear minds who have lived full lives or worse those who died tragically and far too young. That's why there are yiskor services and other remembrances. But those we loved live in our hearts forever.

I have learned two things in life. I will always worry about my children. No matter how old they are and I will always miss my parents. No matter how old I am.

I feel as if I could have written this, except my mother was from the Bronx and she passed away in 2013. My oldest son just graduated high school and yes, I thought about my mom a lot that day, just as I do for every milestone she now misses...Not only did I miss my mom at my son's graduation, but I could sense that my son missed his grandmother too. They were close and I know he would have wanted to share his achievement with her too.

If memory serves me correctly, my mother, died in '98, used to read and pass along your early essays to me. I have ached for her at every joyous life milestone I have encountered since - my engagement, my wedding, the birth of our child and every one of her milestones. I was a wreck at my daughter's elementary school graduation - my father has just passed away and his death re-opened my grief for my mom. I am steeling myself for high school graduation, where I know I will be thrilled, but missing her as well. Thank you for this.

We lost our mother in 2003, my dad in 1976. Both of them instilled on all of us the importance of education and the need for us to be better than the two of them who, because of family obligations, never set foot on a college campus. The same lesson we learned from them, we imparted on our kids. The five of us are all college educated and my parents would have been prouder to see that all of their 13 grandchildren followed our paths. I miss both of them every day and wish that they are both in better places.

Thank you.
Last week our daughter had a kindergarten ceremony and I shed more than a few tears over the fact that my father wasn't there to see his granddaughter.

Thank you for this piece... my mother passed away 2 months ago and I was just thinking today how happy she would be to see that her 8 year old granddaughter (my daughter) and her 7 year old great granddaughter (my niece) are such good friend. We bought our house 3 weeks after she passed, and after we signed the papers, I cried and cried, thinking how much I wanted to just call her and tell her that we had found the perfect house. I think we will always miss her during these mile stones, but what comforts me is to know that she is not suffering anymore (she was terminally ill for 5 years), and that because we believe in heaven, we will see her again and tell her all about the things she missed.

We lost our mother in 2002, our dad back in 1989. My oldest niece was a few weeks old when our dad died. Our mom doted on both of her granddaughters (my nieces). She came to all their milestone events and many others. There hasn't been one of those events (including a wedding) that my sister (their mother) and I say to each other (through tears) "Wouldn't mom have been so proud?" (ok--choking up now and need to click Submit.)

Our mom died one month before her first grandchild was born-- a son, to her youngest child and his wife. Our dad died 18 years later, less than one year before that same grandchild graduated from high school. By then he had 3 other grand kids-- 2 more to my bro, and one precious albeit it a late comer (!) to my husband and me. None of us gets to choose the course or the length of our lives-- we do the best we can; hopefully we savor more than we curse. I loved what you wrote Perri, but cannot help but frame it in the context of my losses, and the losses so many of us live with.

I miss my parents greatly...memory is so bittersweet; living daily without being able to share with them is an ache that longs for them. I wish the cell phone could call heaven.

"But when you lose the people you love, you mark the loss over and over in the celebrations they don’t get to celebrate, in the moments they don’t get to reflect back." Thank you for this beautiful sentiment which just about sums up how I feel about losing my Dad.

As my son walked towards me with his engineering degree in his hands I saw in him my father as a young man eager and ready to face the world. This image lasted only a split-second but it was enough to confirm my faith in the divine and shed a tear for both of them.

As a grammy of eight children, the oldest is nine and two of them just born and two in the belly, I really want to make it to all their graduations, let alone marriages. But this growing old is absolutely not for the faint of heart, things just happen and I have been active and healthy. I am a good Grammy and participate as much as I can and love all these children of my children. Only time will tell.

I can see a milestone as a moment to look forward at your son's future but also to look backwards at what led up to the key moment. I graduated from a graduate program a few years ago, and also my mother died a few years before that. I wish I could say that she was in my thoughts at the graduation, but actually my father was more instrumental in motivating my education than was my mother. I wish I could say I missed her and had her in my mind, but, really, the day went on and she was forgotten.

Love this, can relate and feel the same! Have always enjoyed your writings, Dr. Klass.

I read the memoir written jointly by your mother and you. Please know that although I never met her, I miss her, too.

We have missed you, Dr Klass.
Note to readers- She was born in Trinidad and Tobago, which probably makes her an immigrant. Immigrants add a lot to this country. Are you paying attention, mr Trump?

Thank you, Perri. This one made me cry.