Even though I wish I could forget that particular day forever, it was a strange one that I will always remember. Although it was a sunny day, I recall it as gloomy. Since that day when my mother passed away, nothing has ever been the same. Dear reader, this is not a story about me or my life. It is a sharing of the feelings and experiences that you may have recently experienced yourself, which is the loss of a parent.

I’m not sure where to begin. I’ve always shied away from discussing this matter for reasons I’ll go into further detail in this article. Today, I choose to be vulnerable, to share, and describe what it’s like to lose a parent. I believe that through sharing, death, loss, and the emotion of sadness are will be seen as more commonplace. It would be challenging to avoid speaking about this topic from a personal perspective. It is my experience. I have known this grief for a long time. So, I decided to write this article to connect with all the readers trying to understand and find themselves between the lines and seek even the smallest answers to their deepest feelings.

Let's face it. Sometimes, as ten or twelve years old, we're just not ready to say goodbye to people who are the reason we're here. Of course, this does not underestimate the pain felt by adults in the same situation but losing your parent as a kid deprives you of any chance to get to know your parent as a person. We’re only able to do this when we are older. I guess this is what makes the loss even more painful over time. As we age, we become more aware of what has occurred. As children, we find it difficult to comprehend the concept of death, the possibility that those close to us can suddenly vanish, or even the possibility that it could happen to us. Death is considered traumatic, yet we typically are not educated about it when we are this young. But, the instant it occurs, we are abruptly forced to comprehend, accept, and adapt to everything.

I think this, unfortunately, makes us live the experience twice. When we are young, we are initially horrified, but after they explain what is going on, we start to understand things to the extent that we can as youngsters. After a while, we adjust. There are still questions we have about why it happened to us specifically. We compare ourselves to other children. We feel sympathy from those around us. And eventually, we just want to stop talking about it. We don't want to bring it up. We try to put on a mask and pretend it's not happening as we carry on with our lives. When we get older, we suddenly understand that we can't ignore the loss of the person who brought us here, of their soul, which will always be connected to our own, and we become aware of the hurt and anguish we had been holding inside.

I have learned that not talking about things does not make them go away. If an event happened, then it happened. Nobody can change that. On the contrary, we have to be aware that the human being we lost is a very dear human being and that he deserves to be talked about. He deserves to be known. We have to ask the people around us what he was like, how he behaved, and what he liked and disliked. And it's this memory that will make this person closer to us even though he's not here anymore. In the end, we came to earth because of this person, and that person is gone while we are still here, so I think we should honour his absence and not bury his memory. We must learn to accept our past, our roots, and who we are. And if sharing your story makes you uncomfortable due to others' overly sympathetic responses, then simply let them know. Never let that stop you from connecting and accepting that part of your story.