An aspect of being a parent hit me hard when my wife, Kathy, passed away a few weeks ago. Her health was suffering prior, but her death was unexpected and shocking. Only 70 years old, we had spent 53 years together, 47 years married. While I remain at a loss, I am supported by my son, daughters, their husbands, and grandchildren, which I will expand upon later.
At first, I was in shock and amid great activity - making arrangements, constantly surrounded by words of compassion and foods of comfort. Many who loved Kathy were around, sharing their sadness and stories with my family. Her service was attended by so many whose lives she had touched. It was almost joyous given the remembrances of her. After the formalities were over, we had a luncheon for all. It was a good day in the sense that it was a wonderful celebration of her life.
Then, everyone went back to their daily lives, to routines that were normal for them. That’s when the reality had a now open path that hit me hard! The silence of the house, the wonderful dinners she cooked were no more. I missed our conversations and even our arguments. Our new kitchen, which she had dreamed of for years, was being constructed as she lay in the hospital for four months. I gave her updates, and she told me NOT to pick out our new stove until she could go with me. Now, her beautiful kitchen is finished, and she never saw it. But I see it every day, and it reminds me of her in both good and very sad ways.
Overall, I am doing just fine, not great, but why would I be doing great? I worry about my children having lost their mother and four grandchildren for whom every moment of her recent life was dedicated! She basically clothed them and created traditions they all loved. I’m sure, like me, their emotions erupt out of nowhere with the realization of her absence, which cannot be undone. And that realization hits the hardest, like a hammer to the forehead, something impossible to undo. But I then consider all the adventures we had together with our family. They were wonderful! They happened, and they too cannot be undone. Death is as natural as being born. Kathy lived a good life and much longer than many who die tragically young. She will never suffer the fear of a child’s or grandchild’s sickness. She left us without having to worry beyond what normal mothers/grandmothers do. Thoughts like these are helpful, if not a remedy for the sadness.
Now for my family. Every parent knows the difficulties of parenting. Enforcing rules, trying to be fair and consistent. Not always sure when to help your children or to let them flounder on their own to learn. We know the worries that keep us up at night, the frustrations of not feeling like we’re getting through to them. We give up trips, shiny objects, peaceful evenings, and spend lots of time and money on them. But my God, if you raise them to be decent, loving, human beings, you will want and need them around to return to you the love and help you will need when you are older.
I still have my family to live for, to help, and to rely on. How could I have got through Kathy’s death without their support, love, and help? They were worth every investment in time, money, and irritation as Kathy and I raised them. Our children will look out for us when we can’t think or walk as fast as we used to. They will protect us from social predators, from making bad decisions, and give us unconditional love–just as we did for them when they needed it. I’m a healthy 72 years old and very independent. But I am dependent on their love, and I know they have my back. That path opened again as I write, and it’s good to let it out. Thankfully, tears don’t stain a keyboard as they do paper, where the ink would bleed into pools of blue.
Many young people today are deciding not to have children, or maybe just one. That’s not a good decision for society in my opinion, but it may be for them. Also, no one has or should have kids for the purpose of using or depending on them in old age! But aging without a family is something I could not do very well, and I don’t recommend it. Give of yourself as a parent, and it will be given back generously. Being born, living, and dying are all part of nature’s plan. It’s my belief that having a family is also. Thank you, God, for mine!!
Michael Byron Smith
Author of "The Power of Dadhood: How to Become the Father Your Child Needs"
At first, I was in shock and amid great activity - making arrangements, constantly surrounded by words of compassion and foods of comfort. Many who loved Kathy were around, sharing their sadness and stories with my family. Her service was attended by so many whose lives she had touched. It was almost joyous given the remembrances of her. After the formalities were over, we had a luncheon for all. It was a good day in the sense that it was a wonderful celebration of her life.
Then, everyone went back to their daily lives, to routines that were normal for them. That’s when the reality had a now open path that hit me hard! The silence of the house, the wonderful dinners she cooked were no more. I missed our conversations and even our arguments. Our new kitchen, which she had dreamed of for years, was being constructed as she lay in the hospital for four months. I gave her updates, and she told me NOT to pick out our new stove until she could go with me. Now, her beautiful kitchen is finished, and she never saw it. But I see it every day, and it reminds me of her in both good and very sad ways.
Overall, I am doing just fine, not great, but why would I be doing great? I worry about my children having lost their mother and four grandchildren for whom every moment of her recent life was dedicated! She basically clothed them and created traditions they all loved. I’m sure, like me, their emotions erupt out of nowhere with the realization of her absence, which cannot be undone. And that realization hits the hardest, like a hammer to the forehead, something impossible to undo. But I then consider all the adventures we had together with our family. They were wonderful! They happened, and they too cannot be undone. Death is as natural as being born. Kathy lived a good life and much longer than many who die tragically young. She will never suffer the fear of a child’s or grandchild’s sickness. She left us without having to worry beyond what normal mothers/grandmothers do. Thoughts like these are helpful, if not a remedy for the sadness.
Now for my family. Every parent knows the difficulties of parenting. Enforcing rules, trying to be fair and consistent. Not always sure when to help your children or to let them flounder on their own to learn. We know the worries that keep us up at night, the frustrations of not feeling like we’re getting through to them. We give up trips, shiny objects, peaceful evenings, and spend lots of time and money on them. But my God, if you raise them to be decent, loving, human beings, you will want and need them around to return to you the love and help you will need when you are older.
I still have my family to live for, to help, and to rely on. How could I have got through Kathy’s death without their support, love, and help? They were worth every investment in time, money, and irritation as Kathy and I raised them. Our children will look out for us when we can’t think or walk as fast as we used to. They will protect us from social predators, from making bad decisions, and give us unconditional love–just as we did for them when they needed it. I’m a healthy 72 years old and very independent. But I am dependent on their love, and I know they have my back. That path opened again as I write, and it’s good to let it out. Thankfully, tears don’t stain a keyboard as they do paper, where the ink would bleed into pools of blue.
Many young people today are deciding not to have children, or maybe just one. That’s not a good decision for society in my opinion, but it may be for them. Also, no one has or should have kids for the purpose of using or depending on them in old age! But aging without a family is something I could not do very well, and I don’t recommend it. Give of yourself as a parent, and it will be given back generously. Being born, living, and dying are all part of nature’s plan. It’s my belief that having a family is also. Thank you, God, for mine!!
Michael Byron Smith
Author of "The Power of Dadhood: How to Become the Father Your Child Needs"
