If any adult, following the death of a remaining parent, thinks, "Now I am an orphan," who are we to chastise or admonish that person for coming to such a conclusion?
To those commenters who pile on Dr. Klass for gracefully expressing her private thoughts, I ask, "Have you no shame?" How dare you?
9
This is orphansplaining at its finest!
Larry, while that may be true, that ‘any adult, following the death of a remaining parent, thinks, "Now I am an orphan,” empathetic, mindful adults in those circumstances would not actually say that out loud to a person whose parents both died while they were underage. I believe that was the basis for so many of us commenting. For Dr. Klass to not mention time/age of loss as a critical element, to not refer to herself as an ‘older orphan’ and to not distinguish her actual circumstances vs her thoughts and feelings was, in the opinion of many us, an oversight by her and/or by the NYTimes editing staff.
But why attack us with your comments, Larry: “Have you no shame?” and “How dare you?” You are using a logical fallacy here by attacking us rather than listening to and addressing our legitimate, heartfelt concerns. Your name-calling invalidates your argument that we all feel “the same”. Your entire comment should not be taken seriously but here I am replying, to point out this is the *very thing*, the very mind blindness, we have had to fight back against simply to be heard.
Both my parents died when I was 10 so I get to say how I feel about my position as an orphan. Dr. Kloss does not get to say she feels the same, with no ‘older-orphan’ qualifier, without expecting some 'schooling' from young orphans. Nor do you get to attack and shame me for it without getting called out.
(BELONG Facebook group for young orphans)
4
We are simply making her aware that she should use the term, “adult orphan”. Losing both parents at a young age, especially before becoming an adult, is what brought us out to call attention. I have every right to express myself, especially when I see an article about parental loss. It has been thirty years since my parents. My life has been forever changed and I wish I could have seen them grow old and be there for my adult milestones. You have a lot of nerve to discount and invalidate our opinions.
1
Larry, you stated:
"I ask, "Have you no shame?" How dare you?"
orphan
[awr-fuhn; noun]
a *child* who has lost both parents through death
As someone TRULY orphaned, as a CHILD, I have no shame, and I dare. We did not “pile on”, “chastise”, or “admonish.” I, and those like me, are in an exquisitely painful and unique position to truly appreciate the loss of one’s parents. We can very much imagine the pain of the loss of parents after a lifetime of love and connection, because we have lost not only the connection itself, but also the dream or hope of that kind of connection with our parents.
We do not belittle the loss of one’s parenthood in adulthood in any way. What we are railing against is that the use of the word “orphan” by those who were parented into adulthood denies true orphans the very sensitivity you are calling for.
In no way is anyone invalidating another’s grief, we simply and respectfully request others get their own word or use the qualifier of “adult.” Just in the same way it wouldn’t be appropriate for someone who lost a new dating partner to call themselves a “widow/er”, it isn’t appropriate to for someone in their 60s, having very recently lost their parents, to use the word “orphan.” Can that person say they feel sad, alone, disconnected, lost? Of course! Please don’t use our word. True orphans have lived the experience of literally losing their entire worlds at a young age. Let us keep the word that is a core part of our unique identity.
4
One of the most painful things I have lived though is hearing my mother complain over and over again about being an orphan at age 68. Why? Because she viewed life only from the perspective of self always. She had no empathy or understanding of my and my sibling's loss of father at a young age by tragic means nor empathy or understanding of my loss of that one sibling at a young age to cancer. It was always her loss only. So to hear her lament about being an orphan in her late sixties with no compassion for me having lost my grandparents just continued the pattern of pain and underscores her solipsism.
I am in my sixties now and the word "orphan"attached to an adult repels me.
Don't use that word. It belongs to vulnerable minor children. Let them have the proper word for it at the very least.
7
What about a 50-something with no other family, no children, no siblings, whose mother was like a sister and best friend all rolled into one; at the risk of 'repelling' you, dare I feel orphaned?
2
Just because other people have had it worse, and some have had it much worse, doesn´t negate your missing them. Itś not a competition. Your parents will be with you every time, any time, all the time you want them. Thatś very valuable for you. Rejoice in that. Be the adult they intended you to be.
There is an aphorism: A person dies three times. First when their body ceases to function. Second when all living memory of them ends. Last when their deeds stops reflecting in the world.
5
Retirement communities and nursing homes are full of men and women who have been dumped (no other word for it) there, and then truly abandoned by their so-called "adult" children. Sometimes this is true even in the most respected and expensive facilities.
How about volunteering at one of these places and bringing some joy to those very lonely, "orphaned" mothers and fathers. Who knows what their histories are; never mind, they too are human beings.
If you have lost your parents, who knows what kind of relationship you might build with someone else's abandoned parents if you gave it a go. Who knows what newly discovered joy you might find in reaching out to someone else who truly has no one and no ability to change their circumstances.
7
While I understand the author’s bewilderment at finding herself an ‘adult orphan’, and I think this is a well-written piece, I have limited sympathy.
I try to suppress mean thoughts like this, but my first response was “Ms. Klass, you were lucky. Try becoming an orphan at age 36, as I did, and watching both your parents die cancer and face a life sentence of never, ever seeing them again (with not even any siblings or grandparents or children to anchor you to home).”
Or more importantly, read the other comments in this section and realize how much worse other people have had it - losing their parents as children, sometimes to violent crime.
This is what I tell myself every time I wake up from another nightmare in which I’m begging my parents not to leave me. Or standing in a supermarket listening to adverts for Mother’s Day. Or watching a father pat his daughter affectionately on the arm. I tell myself how I lucky I was to have known my father for 30 years and by my mother for 36, and to be grateful I had parents at all.
3
"I try to suppress mean thoughts like this, but my first response was “Ms. Klass, you were lucky. Try becoming an orphan at age 36*, as I did, and watching both your parents die cancer and face a life sentence of never, ever seeing them again (with not even any siblings or grandparents or children to anchor you to home).”
Or more importantly, read the other comments in this section and realize how much worse other people have had it - losing their parents as children, sometimes to violent crime. "
*As someone who lived this, as the primary caretaker of two dying parents at the age of 15, I thank you for your comment and sensitivity.
3
Right on sista!
Yes, obviously your own loss, sadness, and devastation are, because of your unique circumstances, more legitimate than those of the author. And of course the use of words in our language is set in concrete, so we should not play with the terminology.
I think this comment section nicely sums up what is wrong with the world, and why it will be forever un-fixable. People here claimed empathy but showed none. People had many polite reasons for showing none. Even on such a non-political issue, all I could see was people ganging up.
Ms Klass, your article was deeply moving and beautifully written. And the world is a very petty & miserable place indeed
3
Orphans are vulnerable children, not adults. They don’t lose their parents or choose their fate. They are also not fictional characters placed to make narratives more interesting, but rather real people who learn to deal with a whole spectrum of emotional, cognitive and spiritual challenges. As an orphan who spent time in London orphanages in the early 1960’s, I can also assure you there is little fascinating about them. While I can only grasp the immensity of your loss, there is a cruel irony to your essay--how many of us orphans would trade places with you in a heartbeat? You see, we yearn to mourn for what we never had, and if you were a real orphan you would understand that.
6
Lovely article - we will all be orphans one day. I have been an orphan for a while. Most days, I envision my parents and siblings hanging out with me with their beautiful smiles and words of encouragement! It feels good!
3
My father passed when I was 12 years old. My mother had been my stable parent until 7 years ago when she developed dementia.
Up until 2 months ago, she knew who I was when I came to visit. Now I think she knows she knows me but doesn't know who I am. She has been non verbal for the last 5 years
Feeling the loss of both parents doesn't make me an orphan but does make me feel quite alone. Seeing this nice lady who was my mother, looks like my mother but no longer looks at me with love in her eyes is a constant reminder that she is gone.
5
I feel orphaned all over again as I read this, and I'm a 70-year-old who lost most relatives by age 18 and all by my early 20s.
My childhood horror of my birth parents and my teenage rage at them echoes across the decades to this very morning.
I do not miss *them.* I ache because I missed out on Klass's youth of growing up as a treasured part of a decent family.
Every child earns this by being born, but so many millions of us experience it only in books or in reminiscent pixels on a screen.
7
I am a member of BELONG on Facebook due to the fact that I became an orphan at fourteen. My parents never got to see me go to the prom, graduate from high school or move into my freshman dorm. It is these milestones that a majority of us go through by the age of eighteen. I have had to rely on myself because I didn’t have the option of seeking help or advice from my parents. They are just fading memories inside my head. There’s a song that goes, “You can’t put your arms around a memory.” The term orphan should only be used by someone who has lost both parents at a young age. I am thankful for all of my “sisters” I have met on BELONG. We are all saddened by our common denominator, but there is a comfort in knowing I am not alone.
8
My father recently passed away, nearly 80...17 years after my mother. It is strange and unsettling to find oneself without one's parents, I think. Luckily, I had good...or even great...relationships with both. And I was very lucky to have been delivered to such good, loving and compassionate people. I find that the death of my father makes my mother seem suddenly so much further away. While he was alive, he was a reminder of her and our family as it once was. I only wish he could have stayed a little longer to be that reminder for especially for my young son. I hope he never tires of hearing how wonderful they were.
4
Orphan Too
“I’m an orphan now too,” a 60 year old woman said as she laid her mother to rest. The deep sorrow one feels as they lose their remaining parent will envelope them for the rest of their life and cause them to feel great pain like they have never felt before. The grieving will begin and won’t let up for many years.
But please, do not belittle what a true orphan went through by referring to yourself as an orphan. When a young person becomes orphaned, grieving isn’t typically on the menu for a decade or so, survival is. The shock to the system and the immediate need for a legal guardian and to gather your life together and move on, whatever that means, does not allow any type of natural grieving process. As you fight off the child abusers and money grabbers, all disguised as someone who cares, you are struggling to make it to the next day. All of the normal emotions you should be feeling are pushed down very far casting a dark shadow over your soul. You won’t be visited by them again until your life is in some sort of order. And even then, when you feel a little bit settled, you can’t possibly allow yourself to relax because once you let your breath out, the next blow will come crashing down, and you only have yourself provide a safe landing.
To FINISH READING, FOLLOW BLOG BELOW:
https://olderpeopleclaimingtobeorphans.blogspot.com/
7
So true Yvonne - the word has deep meaning. Your blog is touching. Thank you for writing.
1
Thanks Toni! Appreciate your kind words.
While this author (and many people commenting) writes about the legitimate loss regarding their last remaining parent, to use the term "orphan" is tone deaf at best, it marginalizes and diminishes the profoundness of what a true orphan is: the death of both parents before the age of 18. I read older adults describing their feelings by saying "I feel like an orphan now" and I would emphatically say "no, you don't". If you had your parents live while you emerged into and live in adulthood, you have *no idea* what it's like to, as an underage child, be utterly dependent on other caregivers not only for basic things such as food and housing, but decisions regarding financial and legal support, totally vulnerable to others' decisions about every single aspect of your life. If you are trying to resolve your legitimate difficulty in recovering from your loss, or, if you are attempting to help support us out of empathy, I urge you find your own term to describe your loss and subsequent feelings. Otherwise, why would you intentionally use the term "orphan" that by doing so marginalizes and hurts so many of us who have had the profound and traumatic loss of the death of both our parents while underage. If any reader on Facebook who has experienced the death of both parents (until your 22nd birthday), please search on "BELONG", we have a group for you.
15
Do not belittle what a true orphan went through by referring to yourself as an orphan. When a young person becomes orphaned, grieving isn’t typically on the menu for a decade or so, survival is. The shock to the system and the immediate need for a legal guardian and to gather your life together and move on, whatever that means, does not allow any type of natural grieving process. As you fight off the child abusers and money grabbers, you are struggling to make it to the next day. All of the normal emotions you should be feeling are pushed down very far casting a dark shadow over your soul. There is no staying at mom and dad’s house after a break up, asking for help with a loan, knowing where to spend a holiday or even expecting something as simple as a birthday card. You have no idea who will walk you down the aisle or who will help you when you come home from the hospital with a baby. Casual dinners or weekend visits will never happen nor will any type of celebration of any kind. You will watch grandparents attend other children’s events, but not your kids’. Eventually, after spending most of your life trying to figure it out, you will eventually come to a point where you can grieve. But the emotions have been snuffed out so long ago, it is a very painful process to pull them back up and begin to properly address them. When you have a lifetime with a parent(s), your words should be something like this: “I’m so blessed and grateful for a lifetime with my parents.”
13
Thank you, Yvonne, for your poignant post. For those that fit into this category, this "true orphan" category of persons who lost both parents to death as a child (i.e., before 21), Yvonne (and Patricia and Mo) have created and moderate a wonderful and supportive online community on Facebook called "BELONG" (Because Every Living Orphan Needs Grounding). For years, this team has reached out to young people highlighted in news stories, who post on articles like these, etc, to invite them to join us. If this is you, please look for us there and we will welcome you with open arms.
4
I realize I will be an orphan sooner, rather than later. My dad is 87 and my mom is 85. But, what still trips me up is being an only child. My brother died 8 years ago at 52...I never expected to lose that connection in my life.
5
No, I am not an “orphan” because both my parents are deceased. Neither is Perri Klaas. Both of us knew our parents over 50 years and they live fully in memory, passing family lore and instructing us in what “we” do. My mother was, on the other hand, an orphan, losing her mom at 4 and father at 13. She never knew what her mother was like, or how she would have raised her. A series of step-parents were there but with many gaps and bumps. I think she felt alone until she fell in love with our father at age 23. This is a good essay about losing aged parents but, by being overly clever, it cheapens the traumatic experience of being without parents as a young child and all the hurt and loss of being raised without them.
12
Thank you. For people who lose parents in their adult years, especially older years, you have no idea what it is like to have NO memories of your parents, to really be an orphan. And it’s impossible to explain what it is like for people all around you to talk like this author and realize, “I have no idea what this feels like”. I have had to explain to my children I have no idea how to be a parent of adult children because I was never a child of parents as an adult. And there are few people who “get it” and they generally gloss over it (happened last night) and they often say, “that was so
Long ago so you must be over it by now”.
5
I totally agree.
I lost both parents when young (before 10 years old) and though I am 72 I find it hard to write about it.
I never really knew either of my parents.
I am not soliciting sympathy but if I had known my parents for at least 25 yrs I would not classify myself as an orphan.
If I was 25 yrs old I wouldn’t have to worry who would take me in.......
I lived with my paternal grandparents until they died when I was 12 (5 weeks apart). Then I lived with a dear aunt who just died within the past year.
3
I will never get over losing my mother. I still have my tear filled moments 11 years after her demise.
In the face of my father's fury she was an island in the storm, a safe haven. In the face of his ridicule she made sure I slept next to a place I could write in the event I awoke with something of note. She is alive in my heart and is a part of the very fabric of my being. It was her presence my siblings and I agree that brought sustenance and meaning to all our lives.
I am a very fortunate man soon to be 13 years older than the writer who penned this lovely memoir. The piece set me to thinking and remembering. They are warm memories of my graceful, absolutely beautiful mother.
7
This hit home for me and then some...I lost my father in 2003, and my mother in 2015. Even more gut wrenching for me, my sister died 3 months before my mother, after suffering a catastrophic event and hospitalization for 7 months. She was my best friend and confidant, and the loss was even more profound since I couldn’t share with her my struggle during my mother’s last few months suffering from dementia and end stage CHF and COPD. I felt very “unanchored”if there is such a word, not having anyone left in this world who knew me as a child. And then, my favorite aunt died of cancer 5 months after my mom, her sister. Attending 3 funerals of my closest female relatives in less than a year had a profound impact on me...and still does.
5
I'm a, sort-of, half-orphen, my father died when I was two; Mom married my Dad when I was six and he adopted me. I am fortunate enough to still have them both, doubly fortunate to still have my in-laws, though my husband has died.
Really, I don't see a need for orphan to be reserved to kids. My kids will always be my kids, my parents my parents, and when my parents die I will be an orphan again. Kids are more vulnerable, even so, we are all vulnerable.
1
Dr. Klass is a great writer whom I’ve enjoyed for a long time. She expresses well the pain adults feel when they lose their parents. However, given her intelligence and professional skills, it’s surprising to read her unfortunate misuse of the term “orphan.” Because a true orphan, a child, lacks the cognitive skills and life experience to process the life-altering loss of a parent in the very way Dr. Klass demonstrates, and therein lies the essence of how damaging true orphanhood can be for the child. I was orphaned at 4 when my father died. My profoundly cruel and abusive mother used to drive me by an orphanage repeatedly for years and say “I should put you expletive deleted in there...” it was very traumatic and marked me forever. There is a book by Maxine Harris called “ The Loss that is Forever” that documents the trauma of orphanhood powerfully and I recommend it to anyone who has gone through losing a parent as a child. Frankly, I grew up thinking it would have been better if I’d run away to that orphanage instead of staying with my mother, who made life a living hell. There is so much much making about family in our culture, and I’m sad to read a piece that contributes to misuse of a term that, for many of us, is a burning brand on the soul.
8
At age 65, I have become my long-departed mother. I am grateful to have been raised in the church of Nancy Elaine Reed. She was a good woman. So am I.
5
Beautiful. My Dad has passed and my Mom is waving goodbye slowly (Dementia). My family lives in the moment with her, and we try to plant the seeds of memories in her young great-grands. The writer’s words remind me to be thankful that my Mom was who she was-who she used to be. I am greatful that she is still in our world, even though she is no longer the parent she was.
2
I was ten years old and had my eye on a baseball glove that cost around eight bucks. My father and mother had a small candy store, and I knew from listening to them that it had been a pretty tough year at the store. But I asked for the glove anyway. They said yes, but only on the condition that I would not be receiving any other presents at Hanukkah that year. I accepted the condition immediately, without ever thinking twice about it. They worked late during the Christmas and Hanukkah holidays, but when they came home on the first night of Hanukkah they took me totally by surprise by marching in with the glove, a football, a Monopoly game and a toy microscope which made me think that I had just won the Powerball Lottery of my dreams. Which, of course, is exactly what I had done. The glove fell apart after a few years and the Monopoly game and the microscope didn’t last very long either. I’ve had my fair share of gifts since that time, but never any others that even came remotely close to matching those. Thanks Mom and Pop, for everything.
17
I was ten years old and had my eye on a baseball glove that cost around eight bucks. My father and mother had a small candy store, and I knew from listening to them that it had been a pretty tough year at the store. But I asked for the glove anyway. They said yes, but only on the condition that I would not be receiving any other presents at Hanukkah that year. I accepted the condition immediately, without ever thinking twice about it. They worked late during the Christmas and Hanukkah holidays, but when they came home on the first night of Hanukkah they took me totally by surprise by marching in with a football, a Monopoly game and a toy microscope which made me think that I had just won the Powerball Lottery of my dreams. Which, of course, is exactly what I had done. The glove fell apart after a few years and the Monopoly game and the microscope didn’t last very long either. I’ve had my fair share of gifts since that time, but never any others that even came remotely close to matching those. Thanks Mom and Pop, for everything.
1
My father died 2 months before my 9th birthday right before I was to start 4th grade, that colored my whole childhood. But then, when my mom died 20 years later, it unmoored me in a way that still affects me and that was 30 years ago. I now have a son in college and the loss, while not raw, is profound and ever present. Every milestone, his birthdays, graduations, etc. make me think of her and how I am an "orphan". I now have friends beginning to lose their parents and I feel for them, but I must confess, I think of all the years they did get to have them and feel a little jealous.
10
The same thoughts began flitting through my mind after my mother's death in 2015. I was fortunate enough to have a good spell of adulthood while both of my parents were still living; my 84-year-old father died a few days before I turned 40, and my mother, well into her nineties, when I was 58. Losing my mother also made me closer to my last living aunt and uncle; my aunt died very recently, and I think it was just as hard as losing my mother was. On the positive side, and since I don't have children, the course of gradually losing my parents, aunts, and uncles has made me want to be closer to my own nephews and niece. I'm delighted in the adults they've become, and hope I'm around for a long time to share their adulthood with them.
1
Thank you for this lovely piece, Dr Klass. My mother, my second parent, passed away last November, and both my sister and I (in our fifties) had the fleeting thought that we were now orphans. Despite being blessed with a loving husband and sons, in the initial, raw stages of grief, there were moments when I felt like a bewildered child, and the designation seemed apt. You put the term “orphan” in perspective in your piece, so I cannot understand why so many people are taking issue with it.
4
Sure you miss your parents. Try to direct your thoughts to gratitude when the melancholy approaches, along with the millions of children who have no one.
2
It's also perfectly fine to be sad and miss your parents, period.
7
Grief is normal and natural. Telling someone to direct thoughts to gratitude is not a productive or empathetic response
9
My parents died when I was a child and I would have been grateful if I had them alive until I was an adult.
1
Just wait until your close friends die. I lost two in 2 years both relatively young.
Mom died November 30, my last brother on February 13. No more parents, siblings dead and child free. Those people that shared my earliest memories are all gone.
Living lonely.
8
Hugs and warm wishes to Solamente Una Voz.
2
The comments section of this article is where the most beautiful stories are found.
8
A remedy for the frightening realization of being alone, after a loved one's passing, to be alone without an avenue for caring ... https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/30/opinion/loving-children-cometa-italy.... ... a real comfort, to me, in reading both of these NYT articles.
There is a secret club that no one wants to be admitted to, but we all are, and no one can adequately tell us how long and painful the membership will be.
1
Losing your parents truly brings home that we are all "alone" and that we are all going to die. It also has taught me that life moves onward, regardless of that feeling of wanting everything to stop. Losing one's parents also makes me realize, I'm on deck!
5
We lost Dad 50 years ago but Mom just died at 104 years old. And I immediately felt bereft and still do. It's the moment when you just want to pick up the phone to relate something happy or sad or just interesting....but are thankful for all the years we had.
6
Today is the third anniversary of my Dad’s death. My Mom died about 18 months ago, and I remember that same sudden realization that the two people who were always there for me were both gone. It’s unmooring, but I do recognize my great fortune in having two such incredible role models and supportive people in my life for so long. I am sad, but I am lucky, too.
3
This is a well-stated essay to love, and thus the feeling of being orphaned when the source of that love is no longer with us. However, individual life experience determines whether one sees loss is this way. I was an only child. My dad died when I was a teen, following which my mother checked out for most of her life due to severe depression. I never had the luxury of feeling like an orphan, because I had to focus on being thrust into an adult role very early on. As an adult, I am lucky to have a wonderful spouse, our now adult children and grandchildren. Building family ties and creating future memories is far more rewarding for me than nostalgia or sadness for what I have lost.
3
My mom died 25 years ago and my father died five years ago. Not only am I an only child, I am an orphan only child.
Many things you write I to experience such as wanting to call my mom or asking my father a question about a piece of classical music I hear.
No matter how old I will get I will always miss the relationship I had with both of my parents.
9
The author does not mention siblings. As an only child, I remember how it felt when my mother, also an only child, died. Everyone who remembered ME as a child is gone. I think that is what makes me most lonely. Would I feel differently if I had sibs? I don’t know...
13
Fantastic article with insightful writing.
All I can offer in my older years is some Buddhist wisdom (it's a life philosophy, not a religion). As a 58 year old married for 35 years; I've outlasted two parents and two amazing in-law parents. I've benefited from their collective knowledge. That said, the four noble truths and the eight-fold path might help when feeling like an orphan. I'm still trying to master the first two noble truths but time and age has helped ingrain these truths.
First Noble Truth: Life is impertinent. It involves suffering, both physical and emotional, in our life time regardless how short or long that time is.
Second Noble Truth: The origin of suffering is attachment to impermanent things and ignorance thereof. This is not to say you should not love ideas, things or people. On the contrary, love deeply yet realize ideas, things, people and life itself is impermanent so live in the moment, do not long for the past or dread the future.
My yoga teacher of 15 years offered this nugget that may also help - "Reality is distorted by memory. We are each a collection of memories that represents our “perception”. Our experience of reality can become filtered or interpreted or “distorted” because our thinking memory is often the basis for making logical connections or relating to what we see and feel and sense. Learning to experience reality without voluntary or involuntary distortions is one goal on the road to enlightenment.”
Namaste.
15
Thank you for putting into words - and the Times for putting into print - many of the feelings and emotions that I, and I suspect many others, have felt and continue to feel. I think of my parents every day; I, too, made up the pill cases, went to the doctors appointments, and drove to the nursing homes.
My mother enshrined the birthdays of her siblings and parents in her Hallmark datebook, along with the birthdays of her children and grandchildren, the same little book in which she still noted the day her beloved sister and brother died, as well as her parents. As I have aged, I began to understand why my mother felt melancholy around holidays - she was missing all those who had gone before her. I now do the same.
"May all their memories be a blessing" is such a true, honest and loving thing to hold onto.
13
My father died when I was 9, my mother when I was 45. When my parents-in law died, I was 45 and 52. After the last parent figure was gone, I distinctly remember saying "we are now the senior generation!" There was a feeling of, perhaps, isolation with no generation above me--and more responsibilities! But worse, when my adult son, our only child, died, and left a daughter who had just turned 7, the lack of a generation between our granddaughter and my husband and myself created an incredible void, and many more responsibilities! We soon realized that it was necessary for us to step in and be responsible for granddaughter's welfare; we became custodians, along with an aunt. These generational responsibilities overwhelmed the mourning of the loss of our son, but gave us a great joy in seeing granddaughter grow into a beautiful person with skills that will see her through life. The loss of a generation creates a sadness, a terrific void in one's life, and responsibilities.
13
I once read that you’re never truly an adult until both your parents are dead. I think that’s a more true definition than that of being an orphan.
18
Reading this and many of the comments made me feel as if I’d landed in Timbuktu—that fabled place of my childhood that was the most distant place one could travel.
I suspect I’m not alone.
My mother died just before last Thanksgiving. She would have been 88 yesterday. Unlike the grief and despair described here. I feel a lot of things but not grief. Relief, yes.
You‘re supposed to miss your mother. But I had missed her my whole life. When this author described missing the “sense of being watched, tracked, cared about,” I wondered what that felt like—that kind of sweet, uncomplicated grief.
How fortunate to desperately miss a parent’s love. Means you once had someone who treasured you.
I was with my mother near the end, sitting vigil with a sister, tears ruining down our faces as the Chaplain sang “Amazing Grace.” Reality had set in —our long ordeal with our mother was finally coming to an end. We also knew it was as close to a funeral as we would get: Mom wanted to be cremated without ceremony.
In some ways Mom had been the best of mothers—she’d gotten us out of a ghetto, drummed the need to go to college into our heads, and went to a job she hated ever day. But frustrated w/ life she had ripped out our hair our, beaten and near drowned us. Insufferably narcissistic, she had little interest in us or our children. Still we took care of her, gave her money. I told her I loved her at the end. I wanted her to feel that as she left this Earth. Was that love?
25
Absolutely, that was true love you showed her despite how you were treated. You made the choice to love her and honor her. I hope the sacrificial love you showed her will come back to you one day for I don’t believe you could have done any more.
1
I lost my mom when I was 40. I lost my dad when I was 50. I lost my husband when I was 66. I lost my best friend last month. Now at 69 I can say I am experienced with loss and grief and understand that with each of these losses my grief has been profound and unique. Each experience has been different. I don’t question the depth of the loss of this writer in dealing with the death of her parents. I do take issue with appropriating the word orphan to describe this loss. Orphan is defined as the experience of a child. No matter how profoundly we adults are effected by losing our parents as adults, it cannot compare to the loss of children who are orphaned and denied the love, guidance, care and companionship of their parents as they grow up.
18
Thank you so much for this beautiful insight. It is something I have been inchoately feeling for the years since my own parents passing. I am pushing 67.
6
I'm an adult orphan who was also brought up on Gilbert & Sullivan and romantic storybook orphans like Emily of New Moon and Jane Eyre. And I know I'm extremely lucky to have had my parents well into adulthood.
Like the author, I'm a fan of the Betsy-Tacy book series. This loving essay makes me think that Dr. Klass (like me) had parents as wonderful as Bob and Jule Ray.
3
Exactly what I thought in in 2014 after my mom died. "I am an orphan now." I miss my dad every day. I try to miss my mom as much, but we had a complicated relationship. I cried for my mother last year, though, during a painful gynecological exam. I cried for my dad after my recent divorce. I have never been so alone.
16
My mother passed at the age of fifty-seven, soon after my twenty-first birthday. My father followed her a little over thirteen years later. A decade after his death, I'm still at times flummoxed, often lost, still unsure of my place. Even in the context of marriage with two in-laws, there's a great sense of drift, for lack of better description. You certainly aren't alone.
16
Very timely. I've been struggling, for the first time, with the potential reality of losing my mother, who's just about through a very serious health issue that meant she didn't have energy or time for us to stay in touch, and I didn't want to bother her. (I live in a different country.) I've been astounded by the fear and the profound sense of loneliness. While losing my dad hurt and still astonishes me 13 years later, she was still there, so "home" was still there. I guess I've been naive and blind not to think of this before. Luckily I still DO have her and can enjoy her presence heightened by what's been going on. Still, it's scary and lonely in a totally new way.
9
The loss I feel is that with the death of parents and my only sibling, is that there is no one left who remembers my childhood except me.
86
I think perhaps we had the same father because your words resonated so strongly. I have been thinking of fathers and orphans recently. My 90 + mother's father was an orphan left annonymously at a hospital, and all his life, and her life too, they have wondered about his family. We are now on a DNA quest to, perhaps, figure out his place in the world, and by extension, hers too. Family moors you. Fathers add something inexplicable and precious that is often so different from the continuous teaching and nurturing that a mother provides. The absence of either parent creates a chasm but loss of both is profound, especially for a child. My grandfather was raised as an orphan, it defined his life, and he relished his role as father and grandfather. All of this reminds me of how important it is to be fully present as a parent to my own children - no matter their age. Thanks for such a well written piece.
19
For me it's the loss of home. I hadn't truly grasped that home isn't a place, but your people until I lost the grandmother who had raised me. Whenever my children or I reach milestones, it's the desire to share and then the realization that the person with whom I want to share is no longer there or anywhere but in my head. It's a loneliness that is difficult to comprehend for my peers who have not yet lost their parents.
20
I lost my father thru divorce. Not the same as death, I know but one day he was there and the next day, gone. He was an absentee parent from the time I was 17. I used to look at my friends with their Dads, at their weddings, and significant events. I do not have any Dad stories to tell. I really felt bad and I don't think I ever got over it. My mother died in 2000, of what, we do not know. She was 71. I just think she dies of a broken heart after all these years. I try to be the best parent that I could be and tell my child that I love her every day.
21
After losing both parents before I was 12, I relied on my brothers and sister for support for 60 years. Recently lost two of them within months of each other and now I do truly feel like an orphan. They took the place of my parents all these years and now I think I understand somewhat what it might be like to lose a parent as an adult. It's always hard no matter when it happens.
20
If it would help, there is a group on Facebook for people who have experienced what you have called BELONG, for people orphaned before the age of 22. It has been immensely helpful to feel less “alone” because they “get” what it’s like to not have parents as a child.
We kind of lose the grounding that we were unaware of, when our parent(s) die. If we were lucky enough to get that from them.
15
All depends on if the parents loved, nurtured and actually liked their child(ren) as to whether one feels like an orphan when their parents die. It's a different loss when the parent(s) were neglectful, abusive and mean, or let it be known the child was unwanted; the adult child knows then they will never hear the words "I love you" or "I'm sorry".
15
A grown child whose relationship with parents was marked by disappointment and emotional neglect faces an added cause for mourning: Before the parent's death there may be hope for a stronger or more satisfying connection; the death of the parent kills that hope, and that too causes grief.
27
I lost my mother when I was 12, my father when I was 25. Significant milestones in my life were when I turned 34 (the age my mother was when she died) and more recently 54 (the age my father was at his death). Over the years, friends’ parents have stepped in as surrogate parents/grandparents to me and my children, for which I’m forever grateful. Because of my parents’ early deaths, I’m acutely aware of how fleeting life is, and on a daily basis I make an effort in my actions and words to let family and friends know how much I love and appreciate them. In that way, my parents’ deaths have been a gift.
27
I've been lucky to choose a profession that bestows stock options on it's employees. Some are worth it and some are just busts. I would always tell my dad this stock or that and he would reply sounds good or a simple nope. The nope was his way of teaching me his life mistakes. It was too hard to fully explain until you experienced it. (pink sheet stocks, trending etc..) I figured it out and followed his lead and most of the time he was right. I got a huge stock bonus and reached for the phone to tell him and get a yes or a nope on the deal but alas he is no longer here to talk about it. I went over every option (holding, selling etc..) and marked each one with a nope until I got to a yes. Dad was right again!
15
My childhood was a living hell, wish that I had been an orphan...
29
Same. I can relate to this piece not at all. Happiest day of my life was when they got it together enough to drop me off at my hippie college. Got on a bus for a weekend freshman bonding thing and watched them disappear as the bus drove away. When they were gone from sight I drew the deepest, most nourishing breath I've ever experienced.
2
My mother died when I was 28, my father when I was 33.
The priest at my father's funeral, knowing that Dad was the second of my parents to die, told my brothers and sisters and I that when a person loses their second parent, they become an orphan. And they also become fully an adult. Because they are now now longer any one's child. I like thinking of it that way.
22
Be happy. I have no parents or kids and no one offers me their seat on the 6 train
12
As Oscar Wilde wrote "to lost one parent is sad. To lose both is careless."
13
And precisely what are you and Oscar trying to tell us.with those words?
7
I feel the same loss. By the time I was 30 years of age, lost both parents to rare cancers; my father at 60 and my mother at 65, all within six years of each other. And yes, you feel like an orphan when you go to weddings and see the father-daughter dance or the mother-son dance; when people wish you a happy mother's day or father's day; when you see how all of your cousins, for the most part, had their parents meet at least their first grandchild, if not attend their wedding. I won't pretend this is more horrible than losing a parent in childhood; but it is still painful and you really never get over your first two loves of your life, who are your parents. Their love is special and cannot compare to any other, in my opinion.
22
After my father died (my mother died two years before he died) a family friend came up to me at his funeral and said "You're an orphan now, my sympathies." I wanted to respond dripping with sarcasm "Have anymore uplifting thoughts for me?" but I held my tongue. To this day I have never thought of myself as an orphan.
3
I am an older orphan too.
I must say that I developed a better relationship with my parents after they died. While they were alive, I was mostly focused on maintaining boundaries with them, for to be around them was to be engulfed and overwhelmed in a very bad way. I could not be myself with them. The daughter they wanted and thought they had was not me.
Anyway, since they're gone, it's finally safe to have a few good memories and a few feelings about them. Just a few, but that's better than nothing....
17
Idea for Adult Orphans: take the feeling of orphan-hood and use it to motivate yourself do something for a person who really knows what orphanhood is-- like a foster youth. Be a CASA. You can get a lot of meaning, connection, and benefit providing 'mothering' to someone who needs it, in honor of the parent you are missing.
19
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with feeling like an orphan. I have missed my mother terribly over the years. I have felt alone and confounded at times and wished I could call her or simply hold her hand. I work with many children who are abused and neglected and I have mentored many young adults over the years. Here is what I have found—you must have boundaries. Period. You can mentor and nurture but you are not their parent, you are not their relative. Once in blue moon you will find a young adult who you connect with and stay in touch with over the years, but those relationships are rare. I have found it is safe to shower my nieces and nephews with that love and affection. And my own children—I’m over the moon in love with them.
3
So very touching. I miss my parents daily. It was heartening to hear someone else voice what I feel, and know that I’m not being neurotic about missing my parents. I just do. I wonder if the desire, the need to call them ever goes away, or it stays like grief, a low level hum while the rest of life unfolds...
39
I would agree with the writer that, in connotation, at least, an orphan would be a child, one in need of being taken care of. It sounded unseemly, when a friend in her late forties, grieving her parents’ deaths, kept referring to herself as an orphan. It was difficult not to detect whiffs of self-pity in this self identification.
11
When my mother died back in 2004, it was my last link to actual family. My father died before I was born and the others who raised me - grandmother and uncle - were gone as well. As an only child, single and childless - I only have cousins left and they have their own lives and families and if they think of me, it's as an after thought or for a gift.
Long story short, when my mom died I received a moving letter from one of her friends who was away at the time and learned of her passing from some mutual friends. What struck me most was her 'welcoming' me to what she called an exclusive club - that of being an orphan. And she went on to say, that unless you are there, you can't really feel it, and that when the grief strikes, you need to be able to call another member of the club for support. Years later I am fortunate she is still there for me, and when she sees me, checks up on me. Otherwise, what a lonely place the world would be.
37
I think the way a parent or other loved one dies has a bearing on how you react to it. I was orphaned at 42 due to a car collision, although my parents' deaths were 9 months apart. My mother died the night of the collision; my father 9 months later after 3 brain surgeries. Her death was a horrible shock, and for months afterward I occasionally suffered what I called "grief attacks" when I would have trouble breathing and have to stop whatever I was doing and acknowledge my deep sadness. My father's death was a blessing; the life he had left was not one he wanted--disabled, in pain, in skilled nursing care.
I am still sad and angry at losing my parents, who were a very healthy 67 (mother) and 69 (Dad) when they were hit head-on by a drunken driver. But the only rational choice was to celebrate the many good years I had with them, including the seven years after they retired and moved to my city and helped raise my children. I had a much easier time grieving my father's death, because I was grateful for an end to his pain. My mother's death--one minute en route to my house with a birthday dinner for my daughter in the backseat of her car and the next dying in an emergency room of injuries sustained by being flung forward so hard into her seatbelt--still evokes a much greater sadness. I said a long goodbye to my father, caring for him in the months before his death. I did not have a chance to say goodbye to my mother. I still miss them both.
32
My late father-in-law was the only child of doting parents. Even as a middle-aged man, he was a spoiled, overgrown child, who thought he was cute and charming. His father and mother died within a few years of each other, both in their 80s, and when the second parent passed my father-in-law — who was sixtyish at the time — declared himself “an orphan.” It did not improve my impression of the man.
10
I know just how the author feels. After Dad passed away I'd have moments in which I had totally forgotten he was no longer here, and I'd start dialing his telephone number because I had a car or household repair question for him--then I'd remember and feel bereft. My Mom lived almost 20 years longer than Dad, and died at age 93. She had been the heart of the family and now that center is gone and we siblings just seem to be more of a random collection of individuals rather than a tight-knit family when we occasionally get together. I still find myself thinking how can I exist when the people who created me do not? It just somehow seems irrational, even though it's not.
24
I lost my father at the young age of 5, not long enough to make many memories.
I lived from then on with the fear of losing my mother. She passed away when I was 32, and my first thought was "I am a orphan".
Your article touched my heart.
25
Oh my goodness! The "word police" are out in full force today! Of course we're not children in the chronological sense, but we no longer have parents and we WERE their "child" always. One rarely hears even a very elderly person whose progeny are now collecting Social Security, refer to them as anything other than their children.
It's a very odd feeling to realize that one no longer has a parent living and is now the "oldest generation" in the family. It's always a rather lonely feeling sometimes - especially so if one is an only child. In many ways, one has lost ones childhood as there are few left who will remember anyone or any event from that childhood, unless extended family was quite close.
I'm now 74 and since my children were older when I was born, they have been gone now for a very long time, my father in 1985, and my mother in 1993. They weren't the world's greatest parents and we often disagreed, but I still miss them and probably appreciate them more today than I did when they were alive. As my mobility has become more limited, I realize the incredible physical labor my mother performed daily just doing housework and laundry - I was oblivious for decades.
I've often wondered if the British love of their monarchy even today is not somehow related to the age of the Queen - in many ways, she is everyone's mother - she always has their back. Perhaps we made a mistake!
11
If this is the same person I think it is, I was a student of Morton Klass at Barnard College. He was a professor in the Anthropology department and I adored him. In fact, I asked him to be my advisor but he was just retiring at the time. He made me fall in love with how we perceive different cultures and how they perceive us. I can honestly thank him for my views of the world and for the ability to see things from many sides.
16
Yes. Morton Klass was also my professor when I took Anthro 1 and 2 at Barnard back in 1970. He was a great teacher, and I enjoyed his lectures, especially those covering physical anthropology. I can still picture Prof. Klass standing in front of the large auditorium filled with students. That was almost fifty years ago.
A few years after college, I became an orphan when my parents died after long illnesses. It made me feel very vulnerable to realize I was now completely on my own with no one to protect me.
7
Thank you, Dr. Klass (may I call you Perri?),for this wonderful essay, and for A Not Entirely Benign Procedure and Baby Doctor.
Peter
6
I have been an orphan for 6 months now. I'm not 50/60/70 yet and there are so few friends in the same boat. It's bewildering and unmooring and scary. I feel like I'm in free fall all the time. Maybe it wouldn't be so jarring if I had a family of my own?
24
I'm so sorry for your loss.
I can't say whether it would or wouldn't be jarring for you in particular if you had a family of your own and, since I haven't yet experienced this myself with
my parents, I can offer no personal perspective. I can only tell you what I observed in others: my mother was 32 years old when she lost her father. He was 62, rather young by today's standards. When he died, my mother had been married for several years and had a young child (me). Even though she had her own family, the loss of her father was still devastating for her. My mother is now older than her father ever was and, although time has certainly mitigated the despair and raw loss of the early years she told me that she still misses him and she still thinks about him every day. Some losses are profound: the sense of free-falling may stop with time, but I suspect that the sense of being a stranger in a strange land may never completely disappear. I wish you peace.
21
My husband and daughters anchored me after my parent's deaths in the aftermath of a car collision when I was 42. But being a wife and mother also meant I did not have time to grieve and come to terms with their deaths and absence in our lives. Five years later, I experienced an episode of depression that I'm certain resulted from stoically marching on, although that honestly was the only choice I had at the time. I hope you can find a healthy way to grieve and friends who are like family. One kind neighbor adopted our family for holiday meals. Another offered to buy symphony tickets with me, knowing I'd bought tickets for my mother and attended with her for years. Those kind actions helped my healing. I hope you find kind people to help with yours.
7
Thank you, Lindsay. I appreciate it.
4
My first Mother’s Day without my Mom. How I missed her and those daily phone calls.
26
I'm sorry. I lost my mother 8 years ago and still miss her every day. In a year of sad "firsts," I found the first Mother's Day without her to be the most difficult. I hadn't realized just how extensive and consuming the onslaught of ads for cards, gifts etc. for Mother's Day is in this country. It felt like a full-blown assault. Then, a few years ago, I had the unlucky experience of being in London when it was Mother's Day there (celebrated on a different day than Mother's Day here), so I got to feel the loss twice in one year.
My condolences. It gets better, I promise. I've reached a point where, most times, when I think of my mom, it's a bittersweet feeling - fondness of my memory of her, but tinged with sadness because I miss her.
13
This reminds me of an acquaintance who called herself homeless. She had sold her house and was living in her parents basement until she could move into her new house.
12
Try dealing emotionally, mentally and financially with being an aging orphan that is also an only child of deceased parents that were themselves only children. Not enough awareness of that unique existence...in my opinion.
19
The official definition of orphan is: A CHILD whose parents are dead. So no you are not orphan. End of the story.
19
There are broader dictionary definitions that support the author's use of the term, not to mention accepted usage.
4
My goodness, you're a sour Sue, aren't you?
I think that Ms. Klass is well aware that she's not an "orphan" in the traditional sense of the word; rather, I think she is meditating on the sadness that comes with the loss of one's parents and with the passing of time. It's a different loss when you're an adult but it's still a loss and, if one has had a good or close relationship with one's parents, it can be a loss of profound ramifications. Your coldness and lack of sympathy are really rather awful, but there seems to be quite a number of cold and unsympathetic people on these comment boards these days, so I guess you're not alone. But fortunately there are still people with a sense of pity or compassion or who can at least appreciate good writing, and that's what will carry grievers like Ms. Klass forward. And that, Rebecca in Cambridge, is the end of the story.
42
This comment is mean... really, no need for it and no, it is not the end of the story for Mr. Klass.
13
I hope my children will one day feel that way about their parents
8
This paper ran a piece about a month ago on “Elder Orphans”, people who have no parents, siblings, children, or significant other. It was quite riveting. Their is a FB Page where one can become a member of the online group.
7
We were talking about this group yesterday. In addition to those unmoorings, many also talk of having little or no money, contributing to other fears of survival, homelessness, loss of decent medical care. Picture these images in a culture where age has no value; where community is an archaic concept, that is, our America.
I do not know if we are brave enough for our orphan years.
15
While I understand your use of the word 'orphan' to describe a particular type of longing, it strikes me as cheapening the word, and somewhat disrespectful to those who lose their parents as children. The dictionary I use defines orphan as "a child whose parents are dead," and that's the only way I've heard it used to describe a person. It is quite different to lose your parents as a child than to miss them as an adult - as a child it is a life-threatening experience that shapes your entire psyche for the rest of your days.
39
My father left us when I was one year old and my mother died when I was four leaving me with my widowed maternal grandfather who died when I was eleven.
I think I WAS an orphan; now I am a grateful great grandmother at 72.
I was the youngest of six. My mother put me to bed one night when I was three years old and went to pick my oldest brother up from work. She was killed by a hit and run drunk driver as she crossed the street in front of his workplace - she was surprising him because it was his birthday. As my people say, my dad “took to the drink” and abandoned us after a few months. I was passed around like a football until I finally landed in the foster care system. If you’d like to have the word “orphan” defined a little more “up close and personal”, drop me a line.....
63
I was first orphaned at the age of 19 months, when my mother died - or more precisely, when my mother was killed. By my father. He went to prison, albeit briefly - he actually served 2 years for his crime of shooting my mother during an argument because it was considered "a crime of passion".
I was "orphaned" again when he appeared, a virtual stranger, to fight for custody of me and my brother. Our maternal grandmother had loved and cared for us throughout the aftermath of the murder, and then throughout our father's incarceration. Although he had no home for us to live in, and would be leaving us with the friends we lived with while he worked, he "won", and we weren't allowed even visitation rights with our grandmother. Our father remarried a cold-hearted woman, had four more children, and my brother ran away to live with our grandmother. I was devastated, but I stayed until I graduated from high school. I moved out the next day.
Our father died when I was 24, and I was sad that he never spoke about what he did. Our grandmother died when I was 40 - we had re-established our relationship, and I loved her deeply. I identified with Dickensian characters in the books I read, but knew no one in real life who had lived the kind of life I did.
96
@Chris Wildman: I'm sorry for the devastating and traumatic childhood you endured. How cruel for your father to have torn you away from your loving grandmother just to "win".
I'm relieved that you had more years with your grandmother in your life after your father died, and that you had her love well into adulthood - though I know it still doesn't come anywhere close to what a "regular" childhood would have been, nor does it make up for all you've suffered. Your growing-up years were truly Dickensian.
I wish you only the best in your life now and in the future.
4
I was 24 when my father died (age 66) and 45 when my mother died (age 85). While I felt and still feel the loss of each of them, I never considered myself an orphan. I truly believe that is a term reserved for the young who lost their parents through death, abandonment or any other reason. To me, using the term “orphan” to describe an adult who had parents and shared experiences (good or bad) takes away from the loss of those who missed out on so much. If a title is needed, a new one should be created.
21
Dr Klass, my wife knew your parents in Leonia, NJ, where she lived before moving to Manhattan to live with me. I am a physician assistant in Ob-Gyn and have read and enjoyed your books and articles greatly.
Today marks 25 years since my best friend’s mother died I’d end stage ovarian CA. I am forwarding her your article today. Thank you.
5
I somewhat agree with those who say that orphan is not the right word. My mother died first and then my father more than 20 years ago. When he died I felt rootless. I felt as though there was no place that I could go if suddenly, and on an emergency basis, I need a place. I've always felt that my parents home was that place. I remember mentioning this to my oldest brother. I was surprised when he kindly said if I ever needed a place to go that I could go to him. It comforted me a great deal and I no longer felt as rootless.
32
When the topic of parents comes up, I joke, blackly, that I’m glad mine are no longer around. That they had the good sense to die when they did, and, conveniently, within two weeks of one other, although they’d been divorced for 25 years. Neither had or wanted a funeral.
I grew up in the ‘60s and ‘70s and my parents were, and remained, unreconstructed alcoholics. The past 35 years have been about learning and relearning how to keep my wheels on the ground. Still, as the eldest son I had the luxury of being the “golden child.” My youngest sibling - RIP - struggled until she was felled by Hep C - a legacy of her addiction.
Now when I look at photos of my parents when they were kids, I feel sadness and empathy for them. Neither one planned the outcome of the lives they lived, nor of the alienation they eventually experienced from their children. They did the best they could. I no longer blame them for anything. There’s no anger anymore. For that I am grateful.
66
In my earlier years I too always thought of orphans as being children whose parents had died. I felt sad for orphans - they didn't have parents through no fault of their own. After my mother's funeral (6 months after my dad's death) my brother and I sat in her now-quiet house. It hit both of us that we no longer had a parent to love, to talk to frequently, and to celebrate our crazy holidays with. We felt like orphans and said so. We knew it wasn't the same as having no parents as a child ( we were in our 40s and 50s) but there was still a profound sense of loss. My aunt stepped forward and said "I'll be your number 2 mom." Indeed, she filled that role for another 13 years. And now she is gone too.
I think there likely isn't a comparison between losing your parents when young or older, but I can (like this author) say that losing your parents at any age is a point of demarcation in your life. My mother isn't here to chew me out for breaking my toe because I was going barefoot. I miss that.
58
I love you Dr. Klass. You are so soulful, real, expert, kind, sensible, wise and loving. Everyone should have a doctor like you. And we readers are lucky enough to have your care, guidance and companionship through your voice and literary talent. Thank you.
17
Beautiful! Thank you for capturing my feelings as a long time orphan though I am now in my eighties.
17
My father was truly an orphan. He was worn in Hartwick, New York in 1909. His Mother died when he was 5, his father about five years later. He was the youngest. His two oldest sisters took care of the five children and "mothered" them. Their greatest fear was being found out and put in the "system" and being separated. As a child I didn't really realize or appreciate what had happened to him. His brothers and he went out to work after they graduated from the eighth grade. Even though as a young man he left New York state and made his life in Wyoming he was very close to his brothers and sisters. They wrote weekly letters and kept in touch. They were truly "orphans" who lived exemplary lives. Daddy appreciated the boy scouts who taught him a lot and men who mentored him. He was an admired and respected head of his own family. He died in 1964 so my brother and sisters were young adults. We miss him every day
72
My parents shuffled off their respectful mortal coils early on. I’m grateful for them and they live in me. To appropriate the term orphan is rather indulgent and insults those who have never actually had (good) parents.
12
It strikes me as rather strange that no one has mentioned that the loss of the second parent leaves no one between oneself and the great beyond, death. For me, as the years go by, it makes me more aware of my place in the family genealogy; there are the ancestors before me and the progeny following me, already three more generations. For some reason there is a certain comfort in that, being a name that will be just one among many in a family tree.
17
Thank you for this wonderful article. When my Father died in 2003 (my Mother died in 2001), I looked at my brother-in-law and said "I feel like an orphan".
I've told my friends that nothing in life prepares us for the death of our parents. Both sides of the fence (good relationships vs fractured relationships) will bring different emotions and need plenty of time to heal.
23
Dr. Klass~You were fortunate indeed and truly did not and do not suffer what it means to be an orphan. I wish you would have chosen other words. I lost my mother at age nineteen, she was only 47, a victim of white-collar workplace exposure to PCBs, now banned and stored like radiation, the poisoning is so great. My father, though healthy, tossed me out for choosing to continue college (my mother's dream), rather than stay home and be his slave. I didn't have a dime, or even a driver's license and I never saw him again.
It is not only that you miss out on having parents for your graduation, wedding, family events, kids, holidays, birthdays, or even every day conversation, but that others treat you as less than, even if you are included in their celebrations. And should their family member act badly, that person will be defended and you will be shut out. That is what it means to be an orphan.
And I'm not sure if I even genuinely qualify as being an orphan, because I had an intact family until I was nineteen, a terrific mother who always went to bat for me and many good memories. I was lucky.
I'm so sorry Dr. Klass, for the loss of your parents. But having a parent for 60 years is not being an orphan.
87
How sad to chide Dr. Klass for her use of the word "orphan," as if it has only a limited and tightly prescribed definition. The ongoing sense of loss, of being unmoored from the generation that begat you, of just plain missing your mother and your father, are qualities of orphan-ness no matter how old you are when you lose your parents.
7
My father died at 59 and my mother at 61. I miss them every day but for me the sadness is for my children who grew up without maternal grandparents. They missed being great grandparents and grandchildren missed getting to know them. My father died in September and my daughter died the following January at 5 years old from cystic fibrosis. Her last words were calling for her grandpa. I believe he went first in order to be there for her. This was in 1973 and my heart still aches.
56
I love the wedding picture, it is iconic for many of us in our 50s whose parents married in the 50s. We buried my husband’s mother on Saturday, she was 81. And when we got home he said I’m an orphan. I thought he was being ironic as he is 57 but when I told my parents who are 82 what he said my mother quickly replied that she remembered that feeling like it was yesterday when she buried her mother as a 44 year old and became an orphan. Almost 40 years later that feeling still resonates. My sympathies to the author. I appreciate my parents more every year and am reminded what a gift it is to still have them.
36
I have often enjoyed the pieces Dr. Klass has had in the Times. I struggle some with this piece. I have lots of empathy for someone who is dealing with the loss of their parents , especially when the last parent is gone. I do ,however ,think of orphans as children who have lost their parents. I was 63 when my Dad died , 10years after my mother’s death. Yes it was a powerful experience to lose that special connection. But by then I had worked with many people who were really orphaned, in the traditional sense and all I could feel was a sense of gratitude for how long I had my parents.
An orphan misses out on all of those life events Dr. Klass has had in her life and in the life of her children. Orphans miss out on parents availability for those developmental milestones and that loss is the loss that lasts forever. Dr. Klass seems aware of the gift of time she had with her parents, I wonder if orphans can hear that or hear someone who doesn’t really “get”what it truly means to be an orphan.
53
I left my home country when I was 28. My father passed away 5 years later at 63. My mom 2 years ago at 77. I was not there with them. It was very difficult dealing with the pain thousands of miles away. I often say that there should be a specific term for adult orphans. I feel it is unfair for me to use a term that normally applies to children who can’t fend for themselves and that will go through life without their parents.
Still, I miss my parents a lot and think of them frequently but it is the longing of being somebody’s child that is so disconcerting for me. As the author says it is the lack of that reassuring sense of having somebody watch and fuzz over you that makes you an orphan.
17
I am reminded of the Steve Miller song, “Motherless Children.”
“Motherless children have a hard time when their mother is gone...”
3
On a related note, this past weekend my husband and I attended the funeral of his mother's last surviving sibling. This means that for both of us there is no one from the older generation left. Although I had only a passing acquaintance with this uncle, I've been left feeling oddly bereft. Even when these elders became the people who needed US to care for THEM, there was still the sense of relationships grounded in their nurturing, guidance and greater wisdom. At this moment it seems difficult to find solace in now being one of the elders.
25
Dad died in 2005, Mom in 2009. Afterward a few well-meaning friends told me I was an orphan. I took issue then, as I do now. I was not, am not, an orphan. I had loving parents who raised the four of us the best they could. They fed us, clothed us, and educated us. After we reached adulthood, they continued to guide us. Indeed, long after their deaths, they continue to be guiding spirits. That’s a far cry from being an orphan.
62
I had similarly long lived parents, yet the sob that came from my lips after both were gone and I was sorting through their mementos of each other was, in fact, "I'm an orphan." That is how some of us feel.
16
I am currently at my parents' home, taking care of my mother as she dies. This essay and these comments encapsulate perfectly the looming void I've been contemplating: that soon and for always there will be a piece missing from everything I experience, because I won't be able to call my mother and share it with her.
89
As someone who cared for her 90-year old mother as she died in her home a year ago, I wish you and your mother peace during this process, and I hope that you can be generous and patient with yourself and your grief in the aftermath of this huge loss. Now, a year later, I am an orphan too, after my father's death, and every day I am reminded of what is missing. I find that I must reinvent myself each day.
20
My mother died last summer. My father passed in the 1980s. I have no children or spouse. But my life has never felt empty as I have been devoted to two successful careers and I have friends and many interests. That being said, I think of my mother every day. I miss her in very subtle ways. The depth of the loss remains but the edges are softening. As time goes by when I have a thought "oh I need to call Mom" and realize that I can no longer do that, it is starting to feel like a hug from her instead of a jolting stab in the heart. Peace be with you.
40
After my mother died, my former husband (after offering his condolences) said to me: “Welcome to the club”. And that’s when I realized that most of my friends were indeed orphans. I do not think of my being an orphan as often as the article’s author does, but her piece brought back a lot of memories, and helped me realize that I actually think of my parents pretty often. I have one regret, that while they were still alive I didn’t thank them enough for having them in my life.
25
I could very much relate to this thoughtful essay, being middle-aged and having lost both my parents last year in the span of 14 weeks. In the ensuing months, I have found that the word "orphan" not only captures this still unfamiliar (and unwelcome) status but also my emotional state, the pervasive sense of disorientation and disconnection that shadows my every waking (and occasionally sleeping) moment.
It remains difficult to fathom that they are gone—the two people who brought me into this world, nurtured and cared for me, and then sent me out into the world to make of my life what I would; the two people who never ceased to be my mom and dad, supporting and worrying about me, basking in my accomplishments and consoling me in my defeats; the two people I could always count on and return home to.
Now, the landscape is irrevocably altered, and I must learn to navigate the terrain of my life without their presence and guidance. How unnatural it feels but how natural it nonetheless is. The world goes on.
31
Dr Klass has so beautifully articulated a theme in my life as an orphan. Yes, I think about it. Losing a much older sister a few years ago, tragically, I thought : "I am the only living member of that family who slept in that house on that street in that town for all the years of my childhood." I think of Thorton Wilder, who also must have been acutely aware of orphanhood as he poignantly penned "Our Town". Oh, the mystical sadness of being the "only one". Of course, it's a fact of life, but that doesn't matter. It matters that we have company in this peculiar
state, and somehow that reassures us.
27
As other commenters have said, this is a normal part of adulthood. It is critical that Dr. Klass take the lessons she has learned from the sense of loss she feels and do what she has to do with her own children and grandchildren.
Hopefully, they will remember their ancestors - for that is what we all are - and smile, even if they still cry a bit.
20
My father and I listened to the 1960s Eagles win the national title. I was 16 years old and just discovering the thrills of football. I still love it in spite of all the bad stuff. Back then the game wasn't even televised in Philly (a blackout was in effect). My Dad and I listed on the radio and I remember sitting on the floor at my Dad's feet while the excitement built. I miss those times but at least the memories are still there that make me smile and tear up even now. Your article really spoke volumes to me. Thank you.
13
I bet you thought of your dad when the Eagles won this year (I thought of my late mother - a die-hard Philly sports fan, she would have been thrilled).
4
Reading this lovely piece, I am struck by how much Dr. Klass loved and misses her parents. "Orphan" for her is one filled with longing and looking back on love and beauty.
While I related to so much of what she wrote, I can't help but be struck by a major difference, one that I was just thinking about yesterday.
Both my parents are dead. My brother has estranged himself from the world.
I was born on their wedding anniversary. That day every year was first about them. Breakfast in bed made by my brother and me. Only after lunch would we get around to me.
As an adult I would dread speaking to them on my birthday as it continued to always be about them. When it was just my dad, he would always talk about how if I was X old, did I know how old that made him?
My father died in 2008. A few weeks before he died it was my birthday. He called. I saw the number and decided that I was old enough to NOT answer.
Yesterday I realized that I was an "orphan". It had never occurred to me before. I have the same connotations as the writer (Oliver!), but realized that an orphan looks like me! Older. Wiser.
And for me, much much happier to be so far beyond the awfulness that was my nuclear family, especially my parents.
31
Gosh, and now your first reaction is to make this article about you.
9
I lost my parents when they were 52 and 64 and even 30 years later feel strange not to have parent. Each holiday i see gifts or cards they would have loved, movies they would have enjoyed, symphonies I would have attended with them, etc. But with the death of the oldest aunt this is the first year I have no reason to buy a Mother's Day card and that has seemed more upsetting than I expected.
37
Ready or not, welcome to adulthood. You are no longer a child. Focus on being a parent for your own.
45
I too listened to Gilbert and Sullivan with my father, I too lost him a number of years ago. My mother is still living, and your column reminds me that while i will have a short time with my mother -- she's 85 -- that time is precious and I can cherish it. thank you
23
Dearest Perri....this resonates so very much.
I lost my Dad in August, he was 93. It is difficult to imagine that he's not longer here.
My Mom is 85 and in poor health and seeing to her care has been hard as she is resisting on all fronts.
I share turning 60 this spring and I feel somewhat surprised at that.
No longer that kid who grew up in Kew Gardens Hills during the 60's?
I'm so very grateful to have had my Dad for the majority of my life.
He loved my sister and I so very much and did all that he could for us.
I hope my kids feel all the love that I did and still do.
All my very best to you Perri and thanks for such a lovely piece.
46
It's hard to believe that I lost my parents 29 years ago, 6 months apart from each other. I still feel that loss of home, especially since my son got married a few weeks ago. It was hard not to think how wonderful it would have been to have them there considering the bride's grandmother at 92 was healthy and able to attend. What also saddens me is the loss of people who knew my parents. I have a childhood friend whose mother is still alive and healthy and knew at least my mother, once she passes, most of my connections to my parents other than my siblings will be gone. It will be a sad day.
21
I lost both the summer I was 25. It meant completely leaving childhood, any idea of “home,” and any sense that I belonged to anyone. I still feel that way 20 yrs later
114
That is an essay we can all relate too, remembering when my mother died a year to the day after my father died , standing at the viewing with my sister and brother saying we are now alone. Seems to me like you it’s always present many years later.
14
True, even after nearly forty years I have the same feelings.
7
I lost my dad when I was 27 and my mom at 34. They were 60 and 65, respectively. I remember on my 35th birthday thinking "how does one have a birthday, turn 35, without any parents". Kind of like if they weren't here to witness it, how could I possibly pass any milestone, even a birthday? It does put you into a new situation and role when you lose your parents.
I am also childless by choice so with Mother's Day and Father's Day coming up the division is even clearer. Everyone in the world goes out to brunch on Mother's Day, or so it seems, except the motherless and childless.
You always miss them, but the role of orphan eventually just settles in.
77
I am also childless by choice. I never worry about Mother's Day, but if you do, find someone to go out with. Someone older or younger, either way. Go have a brunch or drink, or beer, or something to celebrate mothers and kids and families, anyone's! We're all on this earth together. Happy (non) Mother's Day!
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