I Will Never Stop Grieving the Loss of My Mother to Alzheimer’s Disease

I will never stop grieving the loss of my mother to Alzheimer’s disease.

I thought that when my mother died and was freed from her earthly suffering, my grief would soon be over. After all, I felt that I had really been grieving since her Alzheimer’s diagnosis. I had already lost her, a little more each month, for years before her passing. But I was wrong.

I will never stop grieving the loss of my mother to Alzheimer’s disease.

Grief is a strong and mysterious force that catches me when I least expect it. I focused on my mother’s care and protection throughout her illness and on the care of my own very young daughters. I didn’t fully let myself grieve the loss of my mother’s presence and support.

Heart-wrenching grief sometimes catches up with me when I’m listening to music in my car alone (or with sleepy, quiet children).

I’ll never forget the first time I heard the song, Blue Side of Heaven, from Alan Jackson’s bluegrass album. It was a few months after my mom died.

I was pregnant with my younger daughter and driving my older daughter to a play date in dreary weather. Alan Jackson had been a favorite of my mother’s for as long as I could remember. I had downloaded his new album to my phone, excited to hear his take on bluegrass. The tears started by the end of the first stanza:

Don’t be sad darlin’ I love you
And I’ll take you with my soul’s memory
I’m just going ahead to tell them about you
So they will all know you the way that I do

I am not fine, after all.

Devastated by an unexpected feeling of profound loss, I sat in the car for what seemed like an eternity. I tried to pull myself together, after parking at our destination. “Where did that come from?” I thought, “I’m fine.”

Unfortunately, I’ve had that conversation with myself many times since that day. Often, a song or a place or my mother’s handwriting in a book triggers pent up heartache. Trying to be “fine” for everyone takes a toll on my emotional and physical health.

The loss of my stepmother the following year reopened a wound that was not really healed. The loss of my maternal grandparents several years later felt like losing my mother all over again.

Life is strange. I’m learning that as my Heart feels like it’s breaking, it’s actually just breaking open. That as I am falling to pieces, really I am just finding my peace. That as I spill my Heart everywhere, really I am just filling it with truly-being-alive experiences. That as I feel sadness, my roots are deepening, making room for future gladness. And when it feels there’s a winter in my soul, surely spring is around the corner.

Samantha C. Lourie

I am not “fine,” after all, and that’s okay. The heartache of losing my mom too soon will always be part of me.

I will never stop grieving the loss of my mother.

A version of this post was originally published February 28, 2015.