Yesterday was Ovarian Cancer Day and this weekend in the US Mother’s Day arrives in its full and ever vibrant glory. Our inboxes have been flooded with Mother’s Day gift ideas for weeks now, lists of what to do for your mom and a million other celebratory to-dos for the maternal figure in your life. But, just a gentle reminder: many of us are not celebrating.
By all means, kind and loving mothers should indeed be celebrated, but for me, and many others, it’s an occasion we prefer to ignore. My mother is no longer living and sure, I can still offer gratitude of course; send thanks into the universe for the life she gave me and the nurturing she lavished upon us, and I will. I’ll whisper a few words to her throughout the day and tell her I wish she hadn’t died. But I’d prefer not be bombarded with so many reminders of who and what I’m missing. My mother didn’t care much for the “holiday” anyway, and times were simpler then. At home we’d make her a card; no fuss was made. I like to keep it that way. Let the date move on gently, and I’ll stay out of it.
My mother, Kathleen, got ovarian cancer when I was five. She died when I was 11, eleven days before Mother’s Day. Being a mom was her greatest joy. Nurturing came naturally to her, and she was wonderfully creative, musical and kind. She married an incredible man, my father, and he raised us alone, after she passed. Her memory lives on.
If Mother’s Day is a difficult one for you, I’ve written several blog posts with suggestions here at “A Lovely Woman“. My favorite thing to do on Mother’s Day weekend is take myself off on a trip, usually to somewhere sunny, and to focus on whatever joyful experiences pop up along the way. Nature offers the most healing in my experience, and since I won’t be taking a trip this weekend, I’ll sit in our blooming garden enjoying the pink dogwood, gorgeous rhododendrons and (hopefully) the peace, quiet and glorious sunny weather. Several of my most popular blog posts offer reading suggestions for books on the topic of mother loss. Maybe spend a few hours with an author who understand this loss.
Lots of us don’t love Mother’s Day for many reasons. My suggestion is just to be aware that not everyone is celebrating. Some people are even quiet sad on this occasion. It can be a hard day. I do fine for the most part but when people wish me a Happy Mother’s Day it’s annoying. I’m not a mother, I don’t have a living mother and I’m not celebrating anything. It baffles me why people even say this to others, but they do. Even people who know my situation.
And to all the wonderful mothers out there, Happy Mother’s Day to you! I hold a special place in my heart for warm, kind, maternal women. I’m sure this is due to my losing Mam when I was little and so my radar for affectionate, warm mothers is always switched on.
It’s just one day, and then on to the next one.
Sending love,
Carmel
Carmel Breathnach is a writer and former school teacher born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Graduate Diploma in Education with honors from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Her writing centers on childhood grief and the long-term impacts of early mother loss. Carmel’s work has appeared in the New York Times, The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss, Pendemic.ie, The Good Men Project, the anthology Hidden Lights: A Collection of Truths Not Often Told and on the National Alliance for Children’s Grief (NACG) website. She is currently querying her memoir titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
National Grief Awareness Day (August 30th) aims to normalize grief and recognize the different ways in which individuals cope with loss while offering resources and support to those who are grieving. Those of us who had a parent die in childhood can attest to the relentless, long-term nature of grief. It has been 35 years since my mother died. A lifetime. It feels like forever since I had a moment with her and yet the impact of this and other major losses in my younger, formative years still reverberates in my life. I missed out on a maternal line. My father’s mother died the year after Mam died, and my mother’s mother passed when I was only two years old. There’s so much I want to ask these women. And so many things I’d love to share with them.
Today, as an adult who teaches, writes and focuses on artistic and creative endeavors, I sit with my feelings and allow their expression. Sometimes I’ll write or draw what I’m experiencing. The grief is a weight in my abdomen. I let it be. This is where I’m at, it’s the human condition, the result of forty plus years on planet earth. I’ll breathe into the pain and release it through mindful meditation and focused breath work. It doesn’t always release, but I’m present to it and working on not being afraid. Today, in this very moment, the grief feels like disconnect and longing. Sometimes it is envy or anger. The experience changes over time. Gratitude and love are part of my grief journey too, of course. I’ve a lot to be grateful for, and I can allow space for all of it. My experience of loss has felt lighter and heavier, depending on circumstances, seasons, friendships and other factors. People think grief fades and disappears but it just changes form. I really had no idea. But I get it now.
Talking about grief is not an option for everyone. Playing or enjoying music, getting creative on the page, or taking a walk in nature might be the healing balm a person needs. Planting a garden can truly work wonders for the soul. An emotional outlet is necessary, in whatever way feels right and safe. Artistic outlets, while offering release, bring joy and peace. We’re only human. Grief will show up for all of us in this lifetime. We need to normalize it instead of hiding from it and share our stories if and when we wish. Find your people. Support groups are out there. Allowing for safe and healthy expressions of grief is key.
Carmel Breathnach is a writer and former school teacher born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Graduate Diploma in Education with honors from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Her writing centers on childhood grief and the long-term impacts of early mother loss. Carmel’s work has appeared in the New York Times, The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss, Pendemic.ie, The Good Men Project, the anthology Hidden Lights: A Collection of Truths Not Often Told and on the National Alliance for Children’s Grief (NACG) website. She is currently querying her memoir titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
May 8th, 2023 was Ovarian Cancer Awareness Day. Had I not been home in Ireland packing to return to the USA, I would have posted on the day. Angelina Jolie shared on social media about her mother’s death following years of struggle with ovarian and breast cancer. Barack Obama’s mom died age 52 from the disease, as have so many other women around the world, including my brave & loving mother who died at age 50. Too many women have died from this disease.
I was 5 when Mam was diagnosed and 11 when she died. I knew for several years that the cancer was related to her ovaries and having babies, though I didn’t fully understand any of it at the time. As a result I’ve lived with some suspicion, fears & uncertainty related to my ovaries. These organs resulted in my mother’s death after all, at least from a little girl’s perspective. So, when Tami Kent, local author and founder of Holistic Pelvic Care shared an illustration by Sarai Llamas, an artist in Spain and Italy, I fell in love with the work and ordered a print from Sarai immediately.
For over two years, while I’ve polished and completed my memoir BRIEFLY I KNEW MY MOTHER, I’ve enjoyed this gorgeous work of art hanging on my office wall, reminding me of the preciousness, beauty and power of a woman’s body, her uterus and ovaries.
It isn’t necessarily my fate to get the same disease as my mother. As those of us who have close family members (in particular mothers and grandmothers) who have died from the disease know, we live the fears daily. As I write and share about the death of my mother when she was only 50, her ovarian cancer and the profound and lasting impacts of early mother loss on children, I hope to raise awareness of this deadly disease.
The American Cancer Society estimates that about 19,710 women will receive a new diagnosis of ovarian cancer in the US in 2023. And about 13,270 women will die from ovarian cancer in the United States this year. It’s a horrifying and disheartening number. Ovarian cancer ranks fifth in cancer deaths among women, accounting for more deaths than any other cancer of the female reproductive system. A woman’s risk of getting ovarian cancer during her lifetime is about 1 in 78. Her lifetime chance of dying from ovarian cancer is about 1 in 108. (These statistics don’t count low malignant potential ovarian tumors.) About half of the women who are diagnosed with ovarian cancer are 63 years or older. It is more common in White women than Black women.
In time perhaps a cure will be found.
Carmel Breathnach is a writer and former school teacher born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Graduate Diploma in Education with honors from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Her writing centers on childhood grief and the long-term impacts of early mother loss. Carmel’s work has appeared in the New York Times, The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss, Pendemic.ie, The Good Men Project, the anthology Hidden Lights: A Collection of Truths Not Often Told and on the National Alliance for Children’s Grief (NACG) website. She is currently querying her memoir titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
For most of my life I longed to read a personal account by a woman whose mother died at a similar age to me. I wished to find myself, or a friend, in the pages of somebody’s story, to learn of their journey out of childhood and into womanhood without a mother. My memoir BRIEFLY I KNEW MY MOTHER explores how my mother’s prolonged illness, and death when I was eleven, shaped the course of my life and made me who I am today.
I’ve had some impactful realizations recently and these insights will improve what I’ve already written. They’ll clarify things for the reader as they have for me. This is how it is with writing. Especially memoirs. Since I believe in divine-timing maybe I needed to get to this place before my book was really ready. At the beginning I believed I was writing the memoir for Mam. I think she’d be proud of it, and I write it in her memory, but the story is mine. And the book is for readers who, for some reason or another, will find value in what I share. Mothers and daughters will recognize themselves – and each other – in these pages. It will resonate with fathers of motherless children, caregivers, teachers, therapists, and anybody who knows a grieving or suffering child.
It’s a lot of work to write a book, and there are many things I’d change about the process if I was to begin again. For one thing I’d make sure I had someone, a therapist maybe, to talk to while doing these emotional deep dives into my past. It has taken years for me to get to this place, and now I’m ready. Maybe 2023 is the year!
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ~ Maya Angelou
Carmel Breathnach is a writer and former school teacher born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Graduate Diploma in Education with honors from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Her writing centers on childhood grief and the long-term impacts of early mother loss. Carmel’s work has appeared in the New York Times, The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss, Pendemic.ie, The Good Men Project, the anthology Hidden Lights: A Collection of Truths Not Often Told and on the National Alliance for Children’s Grief (NACG) website. She is currently querying her memoir titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
Forty nine years ago my mother and father got married in Ireland. Their union was one of true love and devotion, and in my childhood I witnessed through their actions what love actually meant. After too short of a time together, my mother got ill and she died a few years later. I was 11. Throughout her illness Mam remained kind, nurturing and devoted to family. Dad showed up for her and us every single day, and after her death he continued to be the most caring, generous and selfless person I’ve known. The year after Mam died, my grandmother, Dad’s mom, died suddenly of a heart attack on August 11th. I was 12 and as a result of this loss had no grandparents remaining. I prayed fervently to let Dad stay.
I can imagine how hard it was for my father, to lose his wife and then his mother a year apart. Granny and Mam were very close. It’s all so heartbreaking. August 11th was a happy date for my parents when they got married, but it turned into a sad date on the calendar.
Isn’t it strange how these things happen? Dates matter to those of us who are familiar with grief. The numbers light up in our minds any time somebody refers to them, every single year, for the rest of time. To someone else it’s just another day. But to another, it’s life and death, memories and fears, anxieties and loves. The joys and the sorrows side by side.
Today I’m pausing to remember my parents and the love and joy they shared, the love that remains and the memories they created. I’m thinking about my grandmother and her legacy. Though I was just 12 when she died, memories of her live on in my heart.
I spoke on the phone to my dad earlier and I acknowledged these dates, the happy occasion of their marriage and the sorrowful loss of his mother. We can do this. We can acknowledge both the joys and the losses. And we can do it out loud for those we care about, as an offering of love, an acknowledgment of what they have been through, as recognition of our shared humanity. Our hearts and souls deserve it.
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Carmel Breathnach is a freelance writer and former elementary school teacher, born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Diploma in Education with honors from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Carmel writes on the themes of childhood mother loss, grief and gratitude. Her work has appeared in The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss and Pendemic.ie, The Good Men Project and more. Carmel’s writing has been shared by the National Alliance for Children’s Grief (NACG) and on author Hope Edelman’s website as well as in the anthology Hidden Lights published by Golden Dragonfly Press. Carmel is currently querying a memoir about mother loss titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
For as long as I can remember I’ve experienced life differently to my peers. I had several close friends in my youth, but none of them knew what it was like to have a sick or dead mother.
When I was 11 Mammy died.
My grief has shown up in unexpected ways at unpredictable times throughout my life and continues to do so, thirty-plus years after my mother’s death.
Mother’s Day is approaching and I’ve written several blog posts about this Hallmark holiday. When I was 11, my first mother’s day without Mammy landed just a few days after her funeral. We visited my mother at her graveside.
It’s best to speak openly and honestly about your feelings throughout your life in order to lessen the impacts of grief in adulthood. Every child needs and deserves at least one consistent, loving adult in their life who will listen to and support them. I am blessed to have my dad.
I’ve always been grateful for my family. I was loved and cherished and what a gift that has been. Frequently happy in childhood, I enjoyed playing with friends and spending time with family. Although there was sadness and stress in my youth, I’m sometimes nostalgic for those days long ago, spent in Ireland, on the land running through fields, climbing stone walls and swimming in the sea. I’m still deeply connected to the child in me, maybe more deeply because of what I went through.
For Mother’s Day this year I’ll be in L.A., one of my favorite places to visit. The sun, the ocean, the restaurants where I can find meals and desserts to suit my delicate digestive system, all offer comfort, solace and yes, a distraction from the one thing everyone else seems to be focused on. I’ll have my book with me and I’ll sit in Café Gratitude sipping on coffee milkshakes. I’ll stroll the neighborhood streets inhaling lavender and enjoying California lilacs, stunning succulents and pretty lemon trees. If you see me in Los Angeles, barefoot on the beach, or enjoying vegan tiramisu be sure to wave hello. I might have a pen or a book in hand, I usually do, but I’ll always be happy to send a smile and take a moment to say hello.
February is here again bringing with it thoughts of my mother, snowdrops, milder weather and Valentine’s Day hugs and kisses. It’s not a bad time of year, with the promise of sunny days and gorgeous blossoms weaving beauty into my imagination. I’m an outdoors girl, a nature-loving sun worshipper who appreciates peaceful hours spent in the garden writing next to dazzling hummingbirds and skittish wild bunnies who love our lawn. I can’t wait to swim again, beneath blue skies and towering pines. But along with the hope and anticipation of longer, brighter days, come visceral memories of profound loss.
When I was 11 my mother, Kathleen, died from ovarian cancer. She was a brave, nurturing and beautiful woman and she never complained about her illness, but she did suffer. She was away from her family often due to ongoing treatments and operations. We missed her and I know she longed to be home with her family. Mam’s birthday is on February 18th and though dead for decades, February is still my mother’s month. In my blog Still My Mother’s Birthday I write about how few birthdays I was given with her and how nobody mentions her birthday to me (outside of my immediate family). As an adult I can’t imagine having Mam around to celebrate, but even after all these years, I wish she was here.
March will roll in before I know it and it was March 2nd she died. For those of us who have lost the greatest loves of our lives, we know the pain these anniversaries bring. Mother’s Day is celebrated in March in Ireland, where I was born. Social media explodes with love for mothers and advertisements land in our inboxes, telling us to buy this for mom and that for mom. Mother’s Day is celebrated in May in the US where I reside and to be honest I hate the day (though I know “hate” is a strong word). When Mam was alive she didn’t have time for the “Hallmark holiday,” insisting we ignore it, though appreciative of our childish handmade cards. After she died the holiday didn’t exist. It was easy enough to ignore it, but in the US it’s a huge deal, and a reminder, every year of what I’m missing and who I lost far too early in life.
One of my favorite things to do around these specific dates is to take a little trip somewhere. During the pandemic travel was impossible, but maybe not so impossible this year. Travel is one of my greatest delights, a chance to leave everyday worries and concerns behind, to explore, adventure and plant myself in an unfamiliar city or town. When I travel I tend to walk a lot, often ten or so miles a day, sometimes through cities, maybe along a beach front or between shops in unique shopping districts. On foot is how I get a real feel for a place. My thoughts and ideas expand in unfamiliar places and as I walk my soul calms. Mam didn’t have the opportunity to travel much outside of Ireland. Times were different then. Not many travelled abroad. There wasn’t much money. Many reasons. And so, often when I adventure, I take my mother and her memory with me, in my heart, and I imagine what she would enjoy about a place, what she’d like to see. But I was so young when she died, I can’t ever really know.
Nothing will ever make up for losing her. Gone from us 34 years, it’s been a lifetime. But as I begin to query my memoir BRIEFLY I KNEW MY MOTHER, a book I’ve been working on for almost seven years now, I believe I’m honoring her and my childhood experience of grief, loss and love in a powerful way. I’m moving forward with querying at the same time of year as we lost Mam and for some reason this year at this time feels perfect.
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Carmel Breathnach is a writer and former school teacher born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Graduate Diploma in Education with honors from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Her writing centers on childhood grief and the long-term impacts of early mother loss. Carmel’s work has appeared in the New York Times, The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss, Pendemic.ie, The Good Men Project, the anthology Hidden Lights: A Collection of Truths Not Often Told and on the National Alliance for Children’s Grief (NACG) website. She is currently querying her memoir titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
November 18, 2021 is National Children’s Grief Awareness Day & I’d like to highlight how destabilizing an experience it is for a child to lose a parent, guardian, sibling or loved one. Those of us who lost a parent in childhood attest to the relentless, long-term nature of grief. It has been almost 34 years since since my mother died and I still miss her. In my youth I worried incessantly about the wellbeing of my devoted & loving father. Having witnessed a heartbreaking loss at a very early age I knew what death meant.
As a young girl whose mother had just died I’d like to point to five things that would have helped me feel safer and cared for at school.
1. Kind, caring, compassionate words from a teacher such as “How are you doing today, Carmel?” “What would make you feel happy/comfortable in class today, Carmel?” “Would you like to sit beside your friend for the day?” “Let me know if you’d like to take a break to read your book/draw a picture or listen to some music during class.”
2. More options for creative, expressive learning such as art classes, physical education, dramatic play and games. I craved artistic outlets and longed for more time to run around with my classmates outdoors. Basically, I wanted to express myself through play and play is key to healing.
3. Flexibility around homework. We were assigned a lot of homework when I was in school. I always completed it, but the amount of time spent on evening schoolwork frustrated me when I could have been playing or spending time with my family.
4. A listening ear or a message of encouragement can go a long way toward comforting a child. Had I been assigned a particular person in school, a concerned, kind teacher perhaps, who checked in with me every day for the first few weeks after Mam’s death, I believe this would have made a huge impact on my experience at school.
5. Introductions to friends who had also experienced a profound loss, or groups set up to support grieving children in the school.
Things have changed since I attended school in 80’s and 90’s Ireland. I know improvements have been made since and yet most teachers do not receive grief training. I was fortunate because I had my dad, but some youths don’t have adults at home who offer them the care they need and deserve. For me home was safe while at school I experienced anxiety and unease. Children deserve to feel safe and kindness goes a long way.
Thankfully today there are many wonderful organizations dedicated to supporting grieving children. Check out this past blog post for more information on grief support groups and helpful organizations.
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Carmel Breathnach is a freelance writer and former elementary school teacher, born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Diploma in Education from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Carmel writes on the themes of childhood mother loss, grief and gratitude. Her work has appeared in the New York Times, The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss and Pendemic.ie, as well as in the anthology Hidden Lights published by Golden Dragonfly Press. Carmel is currently working on a memoir about mother loss titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
Over twenty thousand readers have visited my 2017 blog post “10 Books I Recommend for Motherless Daughters” in search of books they might relate to, stories to inspire, guide and/or comfort them as they make their way in the world without their mother. Over 20,000 (and counting)!!! Gasp! This is only a small portion of people who have experienced grief, and yet it is a huge number. Of course I’m deeply sorry that readers are going through a difficult, perhaps lonely and confusing time, but I’m glad you found my blog. May these writers inspire, comfort and guide you. Be gentle with your heart and I hope you enjoy these books as much as I have.
Readers who have come upon my blog posts have expressed gratitude for the book suggestions I’ve shared, e.g. by authors such as Hope Edelman,Claire Bidwell Smith and Cheryl Strayed. It has been a few years since that particular blog post and in the interim more books have been published on the topic of mother loss. A few oldies came to my attention recently too, and I’m excited to share ten of my favorites here. Some of these books specifically address childhood grief while others discuss the loss of either parent or a close family member. I’m creating this blog post specifically with mother loss in mind.
This month is Children’s Grief Awareness month designed to draw awareness towards the needs of grieving children. Grieving children often go unnoticed. It appears they are thriving and in some instances they are but children who have lost a parent or sibling carry a burden many people have no idea how to address. Check out the book list below and visit these websites here and here for more information on children’s grief, and here for an organization which supports girls whose mothers have died. Check out these websites for support and advice on mother loss and the grief journey.
A unique and relatable graphic novel on mother loss. Tyler was a teenager when her mother fell ill and died. If you don’t already, follow Tyler on Instagram now. Her clever and colorful illustrations are poignant, humorous and brilliant.
When a young mother dies, leaving behind three little children & a spouse, everything changes in the blink of an eye. Peg was only 7 when her mom died & as I read these pages my heart broke for the author, her nurturing mom and Peg’s family. Losing a mother early in life creates many challenges and Peg shares her challenges with us in an honest, open and direct way. Her vulnerability offers many truths, truths that usually aren’t spoken aloud. The Art of Reassembly will be published on November 9, 2021 just in time for Children’s Grief Awareness day, and look at that gorgeous cover!
The Aftergrief is packed with stories, knowledge, useful new grief terms and insights about the long arc of loss. It is an easy and pleasant read. By quoting many experts in the field of bereavement and conducting extensive interviews with people who experienced grief in the past, the author shows us the various ways grief can surprise us, guide us, upset us and possibly even help us, as we make our way in life following a significant loss. Another gem by Hope Edelman.
“Many kids following a death experience difficulty concentrating or find themselves disinterested in school as well as other activities they once enjoyed. This makes a lot of sense to me. How interesting can academics be when you’ve just buried your father? How relevant can math feel when your mother just died?”
I SO relate to this & have shared stories on podcast interviews about my frustrated school teachers upset that, only a week after burying my mother, I couldn’t focus on my maths equations!
A unique and beautifully written memoir about mother loss, grief, domestic violence, race, misogyny and family. This memoir broke my heart. An important and powerful story.
Maxine Harris, an esteemed clinical psychologist, examines the lifelong impact of the early death of a mother or father. Harris explores the impact this loss has on every aspect of adult growth and development. For a child who loses a parent “Love and loss are no longer separate and distinct.” There is often “delayed mourning and a release of feelings that have been locked away for many years.” And this resonates personally for me: “the individual engages in a creative act or a life project that seems directly related to the loss and represents an attempt to master the experience of early trauma.” This might be why I’ve been so compelled to write my memoir BRIEFLY I KNEW MY MOTHER.
This beauty really surprised me. I bought it because, well I love everything Kelly Corrigan writes, but I’d no idea how much the stories would resonate. Themes covered beautifully in this book are loss, love, grief, childhood grief, mother loss and ovarian cancer. I cried more reading this book than I have in a long time. It’s full of hard truths, deep insights and gentle reminders.
Lori wrote this book in memory of her mother whom she was particularly close to and who was killed tragically by a reckless driver while waiting to cross the street. This book reminds us all of the preciousness of life, the tragedies that might suddenly befall us and the ways Lori fought to keep her mother’s memory alive. The chapter related to careless driving was informative, upsetting and eye-opening. We have a lot of work to do to keep our communities safe and responsible driving plays a huge part.
A different kind of book, with the storyline based on a plane crash resulting in the death of everyone but a young boy who must now forge ahead without his beloved mother, father and brother. This one is fiction.
This one is for children who have experienced loss, are terminally ill themselves or are curious about what death means. Suitable for ages 5+ this book is written by a grief and bereavement specialist at Texas Children’s Hospital and explores what death is and how it makes us feel. We want to avoid such discussions with children but it’s important to be open and honest and Taryn guides readers in a simple, beautiful way. “Remember that life is like a story. Just because the book closes doesn’t mean you forget what the story was or the way it made you feel.”
I’m preparing to query my own memoir on early mother loss, after over six years of writing and editing. The title is Briefly I Knew My Mother and it tells the story of my youth in Ireland, growing up with a terminally ill but determined and loving mother, a supportive, kind father, school teachers who had no idea of how to communicate with an anxious and (at eleven years old) grieving child and my eventual move to Portland, Oregon.
Visit my Instagram page here or my Goodreads page for more information on each of these gorgeous books, listed below in no particular order.
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Carmel Breathnach is a freelance writer and former elementary school teacher, born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Diploma in Education from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Carmel writes on the themes of childhood mother loss, grief and gratitude. Her work has appeared in The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss and Pendemic.ie, as well as in the anthology Hidden Lights published by Golden Dragonfly Press. Carmel is currently working on a memoir about mother loss titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
How has your summer been? Life for me has continued at its current slow and steady pace. We’re mostly staying home, my husband and I wrapped in our little bubble, attempting to keep ourselves and others safe. Lots of swimming outdoors, time immersed in nature and dedicated morning and evening meditation time has proved to be healing and enjoyable. I’m reading a lot and I received very positive feedback on my memoir-in-progress from an editor a few weeks ago. The work continues, and I’m feeling optimistic and hopeful about my book. I’ve been taking some extended social media breaks and though I’ve enjoyed the sense of freedom away from my phone I’ve missed the online community of friends I cherish and value, so I’m back again, for another while anyway.
Like everyone, I have my struggles too. We all do. Nobody knows what another person is carrying. However, with everything going on in the world today, and some countries suffering so terribly, I regularly offer gratitude for the blessings I have. Life can be so very painful at times and brutal for some. Those of us with sensitive hearts can barely take the cruelty across the globe, our heads spinning at the disregard for life, insufferable grief and torment. My daily meditations with a candle lighting and a background of soft music is a must these days. Holding space for others. Holding space for me.
I’ve been practicing an exercise a healer once recommended to me. Above my writing desk, attached to a black polka dot pinboard is one of two photographs I have of me when I was four years old, about to head off to school for the first time. In this photograph I’m holding the strap of a red canvas bag in both of my hands, the bag resting on my brown shoes. My hair, perfectly combed, barely touches my shoulder and I’m wearing a long-sleeved brown dress. The September morning was unusually sunny, my bare legs are visible beneath my frock. Smiling and excited I pose for the camera outside our home, an old window frame in the background. This innocent and happy little girl is the one I picture when I recall the early years of my mother’s illness.
Several years ago a spiritual healer guided me in a healing session. She knew I carried emotional trauma from witnessing my mother’s prolonged illness and the worry I carried as a little one, until my mother died when I was eleven. The healer directed me to close my eyes and picture myself as a little girl, to invite little me into my arms and tell her she is safe. I attempted this comforting act then, and a year ago a therapist recommended the exact same exercise. I’ve since read articles about the benefits of trying this and when I’m in the moment, arms wrapped around little Carmel, explaining to her that I’m here for her, that she (we) (I) will be okay, a sense of peace falls over me, unlike any other. Now I take ten minutes every so often, to travel back in my mind to support that innocent and vulnerable little child.
I worried constantly at the time that something might happen to my father, leaving my brother and I parentless. Today, I know there was no need to worry. Dad has been healthy and content down through the years. I really wish I had known not to burden my little body and mind with anxiety, but some things cannot be changed. However I can revisit younger me when I meditate and share with her what I know now, offering peace, comfort and love.
We often talk about the value and importance of holding space for others. When I give myself time to do this particular exercise, I’m holding space for me and being present emotionally, physically, and mentally. Some days it’s too challenging to sit with my feelings, sensations, and memories, while other days nothing feels better than allowing myself ten or fifteen minutes to be gentle with myself.
There is much to be grateful for, but as I embrace feelings of gratitude and hope, I also hold space for sadness and remembering. I wish to honor all of my experiences, my heartache and my blessings.
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Carmel Breathnach is a freelance writer, born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Diploma in Education from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Carmel writes on the themes of childhood mother loss, grief and gratitude. Her work has appeared in The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss and Pendemic.ie, as well as in the anthology Hidden Lights published by Golden Dragonfly Press. Carmel is currently working on a memoir about mother loss titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
I’m honored and excited to share this podcast episode, released March 21, 2021 and titled “Carmel.” Got Grief is hosted by Craig Henry & Holly Sumpton in the UK and is about adults bereaved as children.
This conversation was just that, a conversation with two other adults who experienced mother loss in childhood and the discussion was enjoyable, easy and deep at the same time. The questions put to me by Holly and Craig were insightful and specific and I had the opportunity to share about my move to the US, my experience of working on rollercoasters in Wildwood, NJ and how my husband’s response to my loss has changed and evolved over time. My husband particularly enjoyed this podcast episode and I hope if you get the chance to listen, you will too. I like how it dips into various aspects of my life’s experience, deep questions about a child’s perspective on illness and death, a look at my writing process and how I came to write my memoir Briefly I Knew My Mother, how I met my husband and a little about life in Portland.
I’m getting more used to interviews at this point, and when my friend Liz Scott said to me, two years ago in Powell’s Bookstore “You should do some podcasts!” I thought “Me? What do I have to say that anyone would want to listen to on a podcast?” A few months later Jenny Doman Lisk reached out to me to do an episode on The Widowed Parent’s Podcast and I haven’t looked back since. I’ve also been a guest on The Dougy Center’s Grief Out Loud podcast which came out December of last year.
Thanks to all of you who have supported and encouraged me over the years. I know talking grief is not a joyful, light everyday topic but this episode with Craig & Holly was enjoyable. The three of us laughed together, empathized and shared stories and the recording proved to me, once again, how necessary grief conversations are to those of us who have experienced significant loss. I’m grateful to them for inviting me on as a guest. By doing this work I get to carry my mother, Kathleen, into the present with me and assign some kind of meaning to the loss I experienced at age 11 when she died.
Got Grief has a page on Instagram and you can listen to them on Apple or Spotify. I’ll include a link here if you wish to listen from your device or computer today.
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Carmel Breathnach is a freelance writer, born in Ireland and living in Portland, Oregon. She holds a B.A. degree in English literature and Irish language studies from NUI Maynooth, and a Diploma in Education from St. Patrick’s College, Dublin. Carmel writes on the themes of childhood mother loss, grief and gratitude. Her work has appeared in The Irish Times, Huffington Post, Upworthy, Scary Mommy, Voice Catcher, Modern Loss and Pendemic.ie, as well as in the anthology Hidden Lights published by Golden Dragonfly Press. Carmel is currently working on a memoir about mother loss titled Briefly I Knew My Mother.
It was really after my mother’s death that Mother’s Day began to impact me more than ever before. While everyone around me was celebrating their mother (online, at home, in restaurants), my mother, Kathleen, was dead. I don’t like Mother’s Day and I’m happy when I can just ignore it. Looks like it will be easy to ignore this year as the pandemic continues to pose real challenges to everyday life. People are scared, anxious, grieving and we are all feeling uncertain about the future. Many of us have lost loved ones during this pandemic and for those who have lost significant others I am truly sorry for your heartache and pain. It’s tough to lose a loved one, and even more devastating during this challenging time when funerals aren’t possible and people are unable to gather. We all need to take care of each other and offer kindness and friendship in whatever ways we can so please reach out to those who are grieving. Healing will take time and kindness goes a long way. So, this year, Mother’s Day won’t be much different to previous Mother’s Days for those of us whose mothers are dead, unless of course this is a first without her.
Three years ago I wrote a blog post sharing ideas on how to honor a mother’s memory on Mother’s Day and it has been viewed by over 56,000 people globally. I share this number to say none of us are alone in our losses. During quarantine while many of us shelter-in-place, some of those suggestions I offer on that particular blog post are now obsolete, such as meeting up with friends for coffee. So, here’s an updated blog with a list of suggestions for this year’s Mother’s Day.
1. Find a time in the day, preferably morning to meditate for at least five minutes. Twenty minutes feels right for me, but do what you can. Light your favorite scented candle. Sit comfortably with your eyes closed and invite your mother into your space. Breathe. Hold her in your thoughts. Focus on the gratitude you feel for your mother and the gift of life that she gave you. Reflect on some memories you have of her. Listen. Speak to her. Pray to her if you find comfort in prayer. See what comes into your heart. I use the Insight Timer app on my phone which is free and offers the most wonderful selection of meditations.
2. Display a picture of your mother in a prominent place. Maybe light a candle next to the photo, in remembrance of her. I like to wear a locket pendant containing my mother’s photograph throughout the day.
3. If you can visit the store safely, purchase a beautiful bouquet of flowers for your mother, or order a delivery. Flowers lend cheer and beauty to a space. They can symbolize the love you have for your mother and the love she had for you. Better yet, give someone close to you a hint that you would love to receive flowers in your mother’s honor. My husband offered to buy me flowers in remembrance of my mother a few years ago, and it has now turned into an annual thing. It makes him happy to do this. By coincidence the flowers he selected for me last year were beautiful pink carnations, without knowing this was the flower my mother gave to me as a child.
4. Check out this list of 10 Books I Recommend for Motherless Daughters. Perhaps you can order some of these online, preferably from your local independent bookstore to help support them during these worrying times or from your local library. Maybe you have one of these books on your bookshelf but you haven’t had the time to read it yet. Another option is to purchase these books in audio form. Allow yourself a few quiet reading hours in bed Sunday morning or settle into a cozy chair with a cup of hot tea or coffee and an author’s story. Maybe in her story you will recognize yours.
5. Create a collage using pictures from magazines or inspiring photo journals that you have around your house or apartment. Paste pictures that remind you of your mother onto a large piece of card stock or paperboard, or into an art journal. I did this once with the Portland Motherless Daughter’s group when I was the organizer, several years back. After thirty minutes or so working quietly on our collages we shared them with the others in the group. The collages were beautiful, colorful representations of our mothers. I still have mine.
6. If you have a bathtub allow yourself the luxury of some soaking time. There is something so soothing about nestling down into a bathtub, candles lighting, calming music playing in the background. Perhaps listen to a song that reminds you of your mother. Cry if you need to. I love to add a few drops of lavender oil into my tub and often this is where I meditate. Gift yourself this time for nurture and relaxation. For those of us without mothers we need to find gentle ways to take care of ourselves.
7. Read and share blog posts by other motherless daughters. My blog A LOVELY WOMAN has several blog entries about mother loss and many are specifically written for Motherless Mother’s Days. I also have a Facebook page where I post about grief regularly. Without My Mum is an active private group page where women share their feelings on mother loss and offer up support. Motherloss International is a Facebook page dedicated to maternal loss. Motherless Daughters Facebook community page shares many articles on mother loss including my own. The Aftergrief Community, based on Hope Edelman’s newest book is a place to go for support and connection around the long arc of loss. I share the work of others widely on my social media platforms (always giving the authors credit) because each of us have stories that will touch people in different ways. The goal of writing and sharing for me, is to get this information out there, to those who need it. It helps to know that there are others who understand even as our own unique experiences differ.
8. Write. Write in a journal or on a page, just put your feelings out there. I like putting pen or pencil to paper as it feels cathartic for me. Are you angry? Sad? Lonely? Anxious? Write it all down. Or write something. You can burn this text later if you like, but it’s important to express your deeply held feelings. Writing is the number one thing that has helped me process and come to terms with my loss.
Putting pen to paper at home in my garden
9. Write a letter to your mother. This is therapeutic and can be a valuable exercise while grieving. Let yourself cry or laugh as you write & release whatever needs to pour from you. Is there something you really want to share with your mother today? Put down the words. It may even turn into a book! I’ve written a blog post about this called The Healing Letter where I offer writing prompts to help with your letter.
10. Call a friend who has experienced a similar loss to you. They might have more time to talk now that we are quarantined. Of course, the opposite might be true, but it’s worth checking in with them. Try not to feel rejected if they don’t take you up on a chat. Sometimes we feel like discussing our losses and sometimes we don’t. Hold compassion for your friend and see if they are up for chatting another time.
11. Zoom call with friends or family or a local support group. Perhaps create your own group Zoom call with other motherless daughters you know.
12. If you have a garden or you live close to a local park, take some time to enjoy the outdoors. Mother Nature is incredibly healing. I like to sit beneath the blossoms, inhale the fresh scents of nature, feel the soft breeze against my skin and marvel at this life we are given. I enjoy going for walks because they give me time to sort through my thoughts, figure things out or release any negative emotions not worth holding on to. Maybe plant a few flowers on Mother’s Day to honor your mom. You can watch them grow and think of her. Tending a garden is relaxing, rewarding and healing.
13. Perhaps prepare and cook one of your mom’s favorite dishes for mealtime on Sunday. Crack open a bottle of wine or brew some tea in her honor. If you don’t know how to cook that beloved dish of hers or you don’t remember what it was, cook a favorite of yours, or order a meal from a local restaurant, sit back and enjoy.
14. Do you love podcasts as much as I love podcasts? Because I tend to be a busy, active person, podcasts are a new way for me to slow down a little and relax. I listen to them while preparing lunch or taking a bath and sometimes my husband and I will listen together, snuggled up on our couch at home. Recently I wrote a blog post about some of my favorites pertaining to grief and mother loss. Check these out. (I now have a few new favorites and I will blog about those next month.)
15. COVID-19 is presenting us all with many challenges. Some people are really struggling. A great way to lift your own spirits is by giving what you can to others. There are so many opportunities for giving. Local and global non-profits need help. I suggest donating what you can to local grief support centers, organizations helping women who are fleeing abusive situations, non-profits aiding victims of child abuse, foster care organizations, refugee families, state and national parks, small local businesses, tribal nations…the list goes on. If anyone would like specific suggestions I can offer some in the comments below.
I hope you are able to show yourself kindness this coming Mother’s Day. From one motherless daughter to another, sending love and virtual hugs as Mother’s Day 2021 approaches, first in Ireland and the Uk (March 14) and later in the year, in the US, Australia and other countries (May 9).
Much love,
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Today is World Cancer Day. I wish we didn’t need to have such a day.
My brother and I lost our dear mother to ovarian cancer back in the late 80’s. My father lost his beloved wife. Mam was a special, caring, optimistic, happy and creative woman. She was in her element being a mother. She loved my father. I wonder who might she have become had she been gifted with life beyond fifty? Because of cancer she missed out on seeing her children grow up. She never had the chance to travel the world with my father, or grow into old age by his side. It breaks my heart that cancer took my mother.
Galway, Ireland. Mother & children. 1977/1978
No doubt treatments have improved greatly over the years. Progress has been made and cancer treatments are less invasive, less traumatic, and success rates in treatment are higher than ever before. But there is so much more that needs to be done. We need to work for a cleaner, safer, healthier planet and we need to make people’s health a top priority. The health of all people, and our planet needs to take priority over greed, power and pollutants.
As I read through information and posts relating to World Cancer Day I’m thinking of my mother, Kathleen. The memoir I’m writing about losing my mother to ovarian cancer is almost complete. It’s titled Briefly I Knew My Mother, because I was in her life but for a brief few years before she died. In order to help raise awareness of this often overlooked experience of childhood grief, I’m speaking publicly and writing frequently about my personal experience of early mother loss.
Mother with baby Carmel
Also in my thoughts is a dear family friend who died last year after a brief struggle with ovarian cancer, a woman who was very good to my mother when she was sick. She, too, is missed and loved. And to all those who have lost their lives to cancer and to people struggling with the disease, my heart goes out to each individual and the families involved. Cancer is not an easy road. Some people beat it, some people don’t. It’s nobody’s fault. Cancer is hard.
The American Cancer Society estimates for ovarian cancer in the United States for 2021 are: About 21,410 women will receive a new diagnosis of ovarian cancer. About 13,770 women will die from ovarian cancer. It ranks fifth in cancer deaths among women, accounting for more deaths than any other cancer of the female reproductive system. A woman’s risk of getting ovarian cancer during her lifetime is about 1 in 78. Her lifetime chance of dying from it is about 1 in 108. These statistics are too high. More needs to be done. Urgently.
“World Cancer Day, organized by the Union for International Cancer Control (UICC) and celebrated each year on 4 February, is an opportunity to rally the international community to end the injustice of preventable suffering from cancer. This year’s theme, “I can, we can” acknowledges that everyone has the capacity to address the cancer burden. We can work together to reduce cancer risk factors. We can overcome barriers to early diagnosis, treatment and palliative care. We can work together to improve cancer control and achieve global targets to reduce premature mortality from cancer and NCDs.” (- World Health Organization) WHO has developed a Guide to cancer early diagnosis, to help policy-makers address barriers to and delays in cancer care.
Holding space in my heart today for all those impacted by this terrible disease. I hope we can figure this out before long, so that cures will become more common and treatments more widely available for all who need it.
“There is something about losing a mother that is permanent and inexpressible—a wound that will never quite heal.”– Susan Wiggs
“Today will never come again. Be a blessing. Be a friend. Encourage someone. Take time to care. Let your words heal, and not wound.” – Unknown
For more posts similar to this one LIKE or FOLLOW my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Recently I had the honor of being interviewed by Jana DeCristofaro of The Dougy Center in Portland, for the podcast Grief Out Loud. The mission of The Dougy Center, as stated on their website, is “to provide support in a safe place where children, teens, young adults and their families grieving a death can share their experiences.” In my interview ep. 177: the relentless nature of grief, I discuss early mother loss, how it was to witness my mother’s illness from such a young age, the challenges I faced at school following her death, how loving and dependable my father was and continues to be, and the lasting impacts of such a profound loss at age eleven.
One of the main topics I wish to highlight as I continue to speak out and write about grief in childhood is the care adults must take with children who have suffered a major loss. Childhood grief often goes unnoticed. We speak of how children are resilient, how they’ll bounce back after trauma and yes, children are resilient but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t tend to their emotions, check in with them, offer them a chance to engage with us about their feelings. According to the Center on the Developing Child at Harvard UniversityThe single most common factor for children who develop resilience is at least one stable and committed relationship with a supportive parent, caregiver, or other adult. Children need protection, love and guidance. For a child to thrive they need at least one consistent, loving adult in their life.
Before I got my teacher’s degree I worked as a substitute teacher in a small town in Ireland for six weeks. A little five year old girl with long straight brown hair and large sad eyes sat in the front row of our classroom. The principal shared with me that the little girl’s father had died tragically a few months before I arrived at the school. Teachers are not trained in grief counseling though I believe they should be. My own teachers had no idea how to approach me following my mother’s death when I was eleven. As a human being with compassion my approach to teaching this sad child was gentle and empathetic. She was timid and intensely sorrowful and I respected this. She worked on her letters and her reading, sometimes struggling to keep up and I offered her guidance without pressure and praise for trying so hard. I allowed more time for games in the classroom, encouraging the group of thirty three students to play kindly, laugh and have fun. I monitored the situation, observing the little girl as she played and though sometimes skeptical she consistently participated. The principal, a wonderful middle-aged lady supported this approach, visiting the classroom regularly with a luminous, encouraging smile.
Every child’s situation is unique, but if we approach them with love and kindness we can show a child we genuinely care. Let them know we see their sadness without embarrassing them or drawing attention to their situation. Quietly, often casually, we can reach out to say we are here for them if they need our support. Children want to blend in and usually dread being singled out, and this is why a casual but genuine approach is important. Most of all we must create a space where a bereft child feels safe and welcome at school.
I still remember the little girl’s name, the warm red winter coat she wore to school every day and the gratitude her mother expressed as I was about to head off to St. Patrick’s College to get my degree in teaching. She was worried about her daughter, as was I, but the school was blessed with a compassionate, loving principal who I’m sure watched out for that child over the years. My hope is that she is thriving and happy today. There are many compassionate and skilled teachers in our schools, but not all of them have experienced profound grief, and certainly not in childhood. Training in this area would be of huge benefit to them and to the children in their classrooms.
I’ve only begun to speak out publicly about early mother loss though I’ve been writing on this topic for over five years now. The responses I receive as I share my experiences, the friendships I’ve forged and significant connections made encourage me to move forward with a variety of projects. In time I’ll grow more comfortable with public speaking but for now it remains daunting. Anyhow, the work continues.
Please check out The Dougy Center’s website and the amazing work they do for local families and also nationwide. They offer a wealth of information, interviews with grief experts, school and community toolkits and various trainings. Friends of mine have volunteered as group facilitators at The Dougy Center down through the years and I considered volunteering there myself, but I travel frequently (when there isn’t a pandemic) and for at least five weeks out of the year I’m not in Portland. For this type of volunteer work The Dougy Center likes to have a commitment of at least one year, which is understandable. If you are interested in volunteering at the Dougy Center information can be found here.
I invite you to share any links or helpful information regarding grief support in schools in the comments section. I would also love to hear about your own personal experiences of grief in school if you have anything to share on this topic. Again here is a link to my thirty minute interview ep. 177: the relentless nature of grief if you are interested in listening. I write about early mother loss to help bring awareness to this often overlooked experience and to connect with others who know what it’s like to lose someone we love. For more posts similar to this one LIKE or FOLLOW my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
November 19, 2020 is National Children’s Grief Awareness Day & in this month’s blog I’d like to highlight how destabilizing an experience it is for a child to lose a parent, guardian, sibling or loved one. Losing a parent in childhood is far more common than people think. “One out of every 20 children aged fifteen and younger will suffer the loss of one or both parents. These statistics don’t account for the number of children who lose a “parental figure,” such as a grandparent or other relative that provides care.” (Owens, D. “Recognizing the Needs of Bereaved Children in Palliative Care” Journal of Hospice & Palliative Nursing. 2008) Unfortunately these numbers will surely increase as Covid-19 continues to spread around the globe.
Those of us who lost a parent in childhood attest to the relentless, long-term nature of grief. More than thirty years have passed since my mother died and I still miss her. In my youth I worried incessantly about the wellbeing of my devoted & loving father. Having witnessed a heartbreaking loss at a very early age I knew what death meant. Not a day went by when I didn’t worry about my dad’s health. Nothing was certain in life; this was a lesson I learned early. Anxiety, I’ve come to realize, never left me. It showed up in various ways down through the years and as Claire Bidwell Smith explains in her book Anxiety: The Missing Stage of Griefthere is an intimate connection between death and grief and how they specifically cause anxiety.
School was challenging for me in the years leading up to my mother’s death and also in the years that followed. There was a lot going on at home; my mother was sick, she was in and out of hospital and I was frightened for her well-being. A creative child from my earliest years I enjoyed many aspects of learning and I relished my friendships, but I was the only one in my class whose mother was terminally ill, and after she died I knew no other child without their mother. The father of a girl in my class died when she was very young and the year following my mother’s death a classmate’s brother was killed in a tragic accident. Each of us was experiencing loss in deep and profound ways but of course we kept our feelings to ourselves, interested only in playing with friends and blending in with the other children. No adult at school ever approached me to see how I was coping at the time. In fact the opposite was the case. I experienced anxiety in school because my teachers frequently called on me for day-dreaming, being disruptive and speaking out of turn.
As a young girl whose mother had just died I’d like to point to three things that would have helped me feel safer and cared for at school.
Kind, caring, compassionate words from a teacher such as “How are you doing today, Carmel?” “What would make you feel happy/comfortable in class today, Carmel?” “Would you like to sit beside your friend for the day?” “Let me know if you’d like to take a break to read your book/draw a picture or listen to some music during class.”
More options for creative, expressive learning such as art classes, physical education, dramatic play and games. I craved artistic outlets and longed for more time to run around with my classmates outdoors. Basically, I wanted to express myself through play.
Flexibility around homework. We were assigned a lot of homework when I was in school. I always completed it, but the amount of time spent on evening schoolwork frustrated me when I could have been playing or spending time with my family.
My teachers had no idea how to help me. I did my best to be brave and often I was very happy, but I was also deeply angry. Every child I knew had a mother. Why didn’t I? Life wasn’t fair and that became clear to me early on. On reflection I recognize the anger, anxiety & buried sadness I was experiencing in school. Of course, I didn’t know how to sift through & process my feelings at the time. That awareness would come many years later.
I’d like to ask people to please keep your eyes & hearts open for grieving children. Children are resilient, yes, but often they are simply just braving it because what other option do they have? I found deep comfort in the care my father offered my brother and me. Love filled our home and carried me forward in life. But, I still experienced anxiety and sadness. Often there are valid reasons for a child’s anger & pain. When I was angry my teachers raged back at me. Children often don’t know how to safely express their emotions. A listening ear or a message of encouragement can go a long way toward comforting a child. I was fortunate because I had my dad, but some youths don’t have an adult who cares for them. For me home was safe & school was not. Children deserve to feel safe. Kindness is everything.
Around the world organizations are working to support children as they navigate a traumatic loss which will most likely impact them for the rest of their lives. I’d like to highlight some of my favorite US organizations where you can go for information and guidance. Many of these offer volunteer opportunities if you are interested and of course you can always donate to them if that feels right to you.
1.The Dougy Center here in Portland, Oregon where I live, provides support for grieving children, young adults, and their families.
2. empowerHER aims to empower, support and connect girls and young women who have experienced the loss of their mothers.
3. (NAGC) The National Alliance for Grieving Children raises awareness about the needs of children and teens who are grieving a death and provides education and resources for anyone who supports them.
4. Ele’s Place creates awareness of and support for grieving children and their families.
I write about early mother loss to help bring awareness to this often overlooked lifelong process and to connect with others who know what it’s like to experience the death of someone we love. For more posts similar to this one LIKE or FOLLOW my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Those familiar with my story of early mother loss will sometimes ask if it will get easier over time, if they will ever stop missing the person they loved and lost. My mother died thirty two years ago, when I was only 11 and I can say this about navigating life without her: things do get easier in time, the weight of the loss lightens and the ache softens but the void will always be there. I’ve never stopped missing my mother. Some days and years are more challenging than others. Love and happiness have existed alongside sadness and loss down through the decades.
I will never be OK with having lost Mam so early in life. My journey has been impacted in a myriad ways because of her death, but I have lived a lot of beautiful moments and I know she would want that for me. She was a happy, optimistic, creative woman and she’d want me to live my best life. Sometimes I wonder how she was able to be so optimistic, especially on her more challenging days. Unlike me she had a strong faith and this helped her tremendously. Her desire to connect with others helped her and I, too, strive to form meaningful connections. It’s not always easy though. People are busy, occupied with their own lives. It takes genuine effort.
I’ll always miss what could’ve been for us as a family. What happened was not fair, it was hard and devastating. But every family goes through something and every person faces challenges. Life is miraculous and difficult. We need to seek out those aspects of living that are joyful, focus on the softness, work towards true connections and anchor ourselves in real and genuine love. Happiness comes round over and over; be ready for the moments. We can experience wonders every day, while also living with loss. Depending on the phase of life we’re living, the ache of mother loss might feel a little heavier or lighter. Just know that it will change form again and again. What we feel today, right now, is different. It’s changing and reforming all of the time; such is the nature of grief.
My journey so far has been informed by beauty and love, in company with devastation and loss. This is all of us, in unique and universal ways.
Photo by Mike Yang
Much love,
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
I wrote an essay about mother loss and collective grieving in February of 2020. A prominent publication here in the U.S. thought it was an important piece and was set to publish it in March when the coronavirus pandemic swept the globe. As the weeks passed they pulled back, telling me their focus was now on COVID-19 stories and they no longer wished to purchase my essay. In honor of National Grief Awareness Day (August 30,2020) I’ve decided to share it to my personal blog because I think we should all encourage one another to talk more openly about grief, not less, especially during a global pandemic. With a few updates and edits, here is my piece.
In January 2020 I attended a Motherless Daughters’ luncheon in Pacific Palisades, Los Angeles, hosted by Hope Edelman, author of the bestselling book Motherless Daughters and upcoming book The Aftergrief. The occasion brought together twenty motherless women from several states including California, Oregon, Minnesota and New York. While gathered together for photographs on the beautiful grounds of Aldersgate Retreat Center we learned of an horrific helicopter crash in Calabasas, not far from where we were gathering. Several people lost their lives in the tragic accident including Kobe Bryant, a celebrity basketball player and his daughter, Gianna. Christina Mauser, a basketball coach and mother of three, also lost her life in the crash. Her bereaved husband, Matt, who was interviewed shortly after the accident, spoke of the comfort his eleven-year-old daughter gained from knowing that so many others were mourning along with them.
Every day people lose loved ones to illness, tragic accidents and age-related diseases. Now more than ever families are worried about COVID-19 and the health and well-being of people closest to them. When someone we love dies our lives are forever changed, trajectories once assumed and imagined thrown into chaos. As a young child, born and raised in Ireland, I became acquainted with uncertainty and death too early in life. My mother died from ovarian cancer when I was eleven years old, following a lengthy illness and suffering. How I responded to such an impactful loss has changed over the years, depending on various chapters and stages of my life, but grief and anxiety have followed me into adulthood, a relentless cautioning to remain alert to both the opportunities and the dangers.
I sat in a brightly lit, spacious room that particular Sunday in January, a mile from the Pacific Ocean, with women whose mothers are no longer alive. Gathered together to network and share our hopes and fears as we move forward collectively and individually, we discussed future projects, meaningful accomplishments and past challenges, all stemming from having lost our mothers prematurely. Seated on comfortable rustic chairs and couches, we sought solace, companionship and validation from others in our tribe. The Los Angeles sunshine streamed in through large windows, warming us as we cried together and laughed. It took several of us years to get to this place but we all recognize how incredibly lonely the grief journey can be and how helpful it is to discuss loss with those who share a similar experience. Loss can leave one feeling as though no one could possibly understand your anguish but the process of expressing grief outwardly with others can be transformative.
I live in Portland, Oregon where I write on the topic of maternal loss and for me, the deepest healing began in my thirties after I started writing and sharing openly about my mother’s death. Over the years I’ve had opportunities to connect with women of all ages whose moms have died and I’ve come to understand the power of collective grieving. As we wrapped up our Motherless Daughter’s gathering at Aldersgate Retreat Center, twenty women stood side by side in a circle. We had permission to honor our mothers in that room, to say their names out loud. Glancing around at the other women, I recognized their expressions of hope, relief and gratitude. Tears were shed when the group session came to a close and we promised to stay in touch with one another moving forward.
As I edit this piece on the eve of National Grief Awareness Day, my thoughts return to Matt and Christina Mauser’s eleven-year-old daughter, who sought comfort in her father’s arms and expressed reassurance in knowing they were not grieving alone. That little girl’s stunning articulation gave me pause. Unable to verbalize my grief feelings for a large chunk of my life, I gradually came to understand the healing nature of grief expressed. Whether it is shared on the page, with a friend or in a support group, grief expressed in safe places and acknowledged by others can be exceptionally validating. US actor Chadwick Boseman, best known for playing Black Panther in the hit Marvel superhero franchise, died of cancer on August 28, 2020. Fans of the actor and people who knew him personally are expressing their grief on social media. Collective grieving offers us a unique sense of comfort. People dive in, expressing their sadness while feeling buoyed by the empathy and compassion of those who understand.
Every day during this pandemic humans around the world are collectively grieving. There is comfort in knowing we are not going through this alone. People can reach out to each other, across social media platforms, in an email or a handwritten letter, or by picking up the phone. We can do this today on National Grief Awareness Day because speaking openly about our grief can create powerful human connections. Our honesty and vulnerability leads not only to our own healing, but the healing of others.
~by Carmel Breathnach
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
“Our house began flooding with constant visitors. We had night nurses on rotation who helped my father look after my mother but weekdays from 9 a.m. until 4 p.m. others stepped in. Not every friend or neighbor was able to dedicate several hours a day on a weekly basis to my mother’s care but in their own ways they showed up. Showering us with kindness during my mother’s illness people stopped by with flowers, home baked brown soda bread, apple tarts and biscuits. They dropped off cards, well wishes, mass bouquets and cake. Relatives from all over Ireland visited every weekend. My mother, cocooned in love, slipped away from us gradually.”
An essay of mine combining the story of my mother’s death when I was 11, with the outpouring of kindness towards my father that I’m witnessing-long distance-from the US, during the pandemic, was published in Pendemic.ie yesterday. The above paragraph is an extract from the piece. Read the entire essay “Reports of Striking Acts of Decency” here. All writing submitted to the site since March 2020 will be preserved by Irish Poetry Reading Archive at UCD Library.
We are all going through a tough, challenging time at the moment, grieving a life we used to live and freedoms we took for granted. Far too many lives have been lost and continue to be lost. My essay was written to show readers that there is hope, we can inspire and lift one another, we can offer love instead of hatred and fear. Each one of us has our limitations but we can reach out in small ways to make a difference. I remember kindnesses shown to my family over thirty years ago. No kindness or act of love is too small.
Be well. Stay safe. Stay aware. Spread the love.
“No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.”
― Amelia Earhart
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
This year, 2020, Mother’s Day looks very different from previous Mother’s Days. Many people won’t be able to spend time with their moms, take her out to dinner, spoil her with flowers and chocolate, because we are all quarantined during COVID-19. This is sad for families. The pandemic is posing real challenges to everyday life. People are scared, anxious, grieving and we are all feeling uncertain about the future. Nobody knows how long this new way of experiencing life will go on. Personally, I’m living moment to moment and day by day, focusing on positive things and trying not to worry too much while taking the necessary precautions and checking in with the most vulnerable in our family and our community. For people who have lost loved ones during this pandemic, I am truly sorry for your heartache. It’s tough to lose a loved one, and even more devastating during this challenging time. We all need to take care of each other and offer kindness and friendship along the way. Healing will take time.
For those of us whose mothers have died, especially if we don’t have children of our own, this Mother’s Day won’t be much different to previous Mother’s Days, unless of course this is your first without her. We can’t take her out to dinner or spoil her with flowers and we don’t make plans to be with her on these occasions because she is no longer alive. I haven’t celebrated Mother’s Day with my mam, Kathleen, since I was a young child. Actually, Mam didn’t think much of the holiday, labeling it a ‘Hallmark Holiday’ and something made up by greeting card companies to make money. It was really after her death that Mother’s Day began to impact me more and more. My beautiful mother was missing in my life and everyone around me was celebrating theirs. I don’t like Mother’s Day and I’m happy when I can just ignore it. I think it will be much easier for me to do that this year.
At home in Ireland in my mother Kathleen’s arms
If you, a motherless daughter, are looking for ideas on how to celebrate your mom on Mother’s Day I wrote a blog post on this topic three years ago that has been viewed by over 55,000 people globally. This goes to prove just how many of us around the world are missing our mother’s presence from our lives. During quarantine while many of us shelter-in-place, a few of the 12 suggestions I offer on that blog post are obsolete, like meeting up with friends for coffee for example, though of course the ideas are still helpful and we can work with them. This year, due to the current situation, there are more virtual opportunities out there for us to explore.
I set to work on a new list today, researching and piecing together what I hope might be helpful for my readers. People will need help and support with their grief this weekend. I know there are broken hearts right now reaching for answers, wishing their moms were here in the world again. I hope this list offers some comfort. Another option of course is to seek out a good grief therapist and to discuss your situation with her. Grief is complicated and the journey takes a while. For now, here is my updated list of 20 ideas for this year’s Mother’s Day for the motherless.
1. empowerHER, a nonprofit for girls and young women who have experienced the loss of their mothers is hosting a virtual Mother’s Day Retreat May 9th + 10th and registration is free. The Retreat is geared towards girls up to age 24, but women of all ages are encouraged to join.
2. Reimagine is offering a worldwide virtual festival on embracing life, facing death, and loving fully in the face of COVID-19. There are several events throughout the weekend and beyond and I will list a couple of them below. Do check out the event’s schedule page as there is something for everyone here.
3. Find a time in the day, preferably morning to meditate for at least five minutes. Ideally about twenty minutes feels right for me, but do what you can. Light your favorite scented candle. Sit comfortably with your eyes closed and invite your mother into your space. Breathe. Hold her in your thoughts. Focus on the gratitude you feel for your mother and the gift of life that she gave you. Reflect on some memories you have of her. Let the tears flow if they come. Grief is love, remember. I use the Insight Timer app on my phone which is free and offers the most wonderful selection of meditations.
4. Display a picture of your mother in a prominent place. Wear a pendant containing her photograph throughout the day if you have one or carry a memory of her in your heart. Speak to her. Pray to her if you find comfort in prayer.
5. If you can go outside safely, purchase a beautiful bouquet of flowers for your mother and place them in your home. Or order them over the phone to be delivered. Flowers lend cheer and beauty to a space. They can remind you of the love you have for your mother and the love she had for you. Perhaps see if you can order your mother’s favorite flowers, if you know what those were.
6. As part of Reimagine’s Life, Loss and Love event, Portland author and all-round wonderful human, Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild and Tiny Beautiful Things (among other works), will be interviewed by Shelby Forsythia on Sunday MAY 10 at 11:00am-12:00pm PDT. Click on this link for more information. The event is free with a suggested donation.
8. Check out this list of 10 Books I Recommend for Motherless Daughters. Perhaps you can order some of these online, preferably from your local independent bookstore to help support them during these worrying times for small businesses. Or maybe you have one of these books on your bookshelf but you haven’t had the time to read it yet. Another option is to purchase these books in audio form. I love a good audio book to enjoy while driving or cooking. Allow yourself a few quiet reading hours in bed Sunday morning or settle into a cozy chair with a cup of hot tea or coffee and an author’s story. Maybe in her story you will recognize yours.
9. Create a collage using pictures from magazines or inspiring photo journals that you have around your house or apartment. Paste pictures that remind you of your mother onto a large piece of card stock or paperboard, or into an art journal. I did this once with the Portland Motherless Daughter’s group when I was the organizer, several years back. After thirty minutes or so working quietly on our collages we shared them with the others in the group. The collages were beautiful, colorful representations of our mothers. I still have mine.
10. If you have a bathtub allow yourself the luxury of some soaking time. Isn’t there something so soothing about nestling down into a bathtub, candles lit, maybe some calming music playing close by? Perhaps listen to a song that reminds you of your mother. It might make you cry and that’s okay because you are alone, taking care of your needs. Crying is often such a good release. I love to add a few drops of pure essential lavender oil into my tub and often this is where I meditate. Give yourself this time for nurture and relaxation. For those of us without mothers we need to find kind and gentle ways to take care of ourselves.
11. Read and share blog posts by other motherless daughters. My blog A LOVELY WOMAN has several blog entries about mother loss and many are specifically written for Motherless Mother’s Days. I also have a Facebook page where I post about grief regularly. Project Brave birds, hosted by my friend in Australia, is an inspiring page dedicated to celebrating the journeys and achievements of brave girls and women who have lost their mothers around the world. Without My Mum is an active private group page hosted by Leigh Van Der Horst where women share their feelings on mother loss and offer up support. Motherloss International is a Facebook page dedicated to maternal loss. Motherless Daughters Facebook community page shares many articles on mother loss including my own. These are valuable and loving places to go for comfort and support. My purpose in writing is to connect with others around the world who are experiencing a similar loss, in particular women and girls. I share the work of others widely on my social media platforms, always giving the authors credit, because each of us has stories that will touch people in different ways. The goal of writing and sharing for me, is to get this information out there, to those who need it. There is no reason for people to think they are alone in their grief process, or their experience of deep loss. Of course our individual experiences are unique but it helps to know that there are people out there who understand. Sharing our stories helps others. Sharing the work of others also helps.
12. Write. Write in a journal or on a page, just put your feelings out there. I like putting pen or pencil to paper. It feels more cathartic for me. Are you angry? Devastated? Lonely? Anxious? Write it all down. Or write something. You can burn this text later if you like, but it’s important to express your deeply held feelings. Writing is the number one thing that has helped me process and come to terms with my loss.
Putting pen to paper at home in my garden
13. Write a letter to your mother. This is therapeutic and can be a valuable exercise while grieving. Let yourself cry or laugh as you write & release whatever needs to pour from you. Is there something you really want to share with your mother today? Put down the words. It may even turn into a book! I’ve written a blog post about this called The Healing Letter where I offer writing prompts to help with your letter.
14. Call a friend who has experienced a similar loss to you. They might have more time to talk now that we are quarantined. Of course, the opposite might be true, but it’s worth checking in with them. Try not to feel rejected if they don’t take you up on a chat. Sometimes we feel like discussing our losses and sometimes we don’t. Hold compassion for your friend and try calling another person..
15. Zoom call with friends or family or a local support group. Perhaps create your own group Zoom call with other motherless daughters you know.
16. If you have a garden or a local park is currently open to visitors, take some time to enjoy the outdoors. Mother Nature is incredibly healing. I like to sit beneath the blossoms, inhale the fresh scents of nature, feel the soft breeze against my skin and marvel at this life we are given. I enjoy going for walks because they give me time to sort through my thoughts, figure things out or just let stuff go that I no longer need to hold onto. If you are a gardener, maybe planting some new flowers on Mother’s Day might be a way to honor your mom. You can watch them grow and think of her. Tending a garden is relaxing, rewarding and healing.
17. Perhaps prepare and cook one of your mom’s favorite dishes for mealtime on Sunday. Crack open a bottle of wine or brew some tea in her honor. If you don’t know how to cook that beloved dish of hers or you don’t remember what it was, cook a favorite of yours, or order a meal from a local restaurant, sit back and enjoy.
18. Do you love podcasts as much as I love podcasts? Because I tend to be a busy, active person, podcasts are a new way for me to slow down a little and relax. I listen to them while preparing lunch or taking a bath and sometimes my husband and I will listen together, snuggled up on our couch at home. Recently I wrote a blog post about some of my favorites pertaining to grief and mother loss. Check these out.
19. COVID-19 is presenting us all with many challenges. Some people are really struggling. A great way to lift your own spirits is by giving to others, if you can, what you can. There are so many opportunities for giving. Local and global non-profits need help. I suggest donating what you can to local grief support centers, organizations helping women who are fleeing abusive situations, non-profits aiding victims of child abuse, foster care organizations, refugee families, state and national parks, small local businesses, tribal nations…the list goes on. If anyone would like specific suggestions I can offer some in the comments below.
20. No matter what Mother’s Day holds for you this year, and for many I know it holds heartbreak, I hope you are able to show yourself kindness. From one motherless daughter to another, sending love and virtual hugs as Mother’s Day 2020 approaches. Take care of yourselves, and each other!
Much love,
Carmel X
Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
One of my new favorite things are podcasts. I love that I can select a topic I’m particularly interested in, search for online discussions on that topic, say, the craft of writing, inspirational women’s stories or conversations around grief, and several podcasts will pop up for me to choose from with an entire thirty minutes to an hour dedicated to my chosen topic. During this pandemic when people are advised to stay home it is a perfect time to explore our podcast options, most of which we can access on our phones or laptops. We don’t have a television in our house and these days I’m avoiding the news and radio stations apart from those dedicated to music, because I need a break from overwhelming, unsettling broadcasts about the global pandemic. I stay informed but I’m selective, in order to keep anxiety and fear at bay. While we look out for the most vulnerable in our communities and make extra efforts to stay in touch with our loved ones, we must also practice kindness for ourselves.
One way to take a break is to schedule in an hour for yourself, some time in the day, where you can listen to a podcast episode. There are so many amazing podcasts out there, with talented, empathic hosts and I just love to tune in when I’m preparing lunch in the kitchen, settling down with a mug of hot tea in the evening or when I allow myself the time to take a warm Epsom salt bath. Sometimes I’ll play an episode while I’m outside tending to the garden or sitting on the deck as our spring blossoms burst forth. I welcome the soothing voices of these hosts and their guests and am eager to learn from their experiences. In this blog I’m delighted to share a few of my favorites. Although these particular podcasts aren’t specifically tailored towards motherless women, I think many will gain some level of comfort and wisdom from the episodes. I believe that anybody grieving the loss of a significant other will draw reassurance from these shared stories, and for people wishing to support grieving loved ones, many helpful suggestions are offered.
Here are five of my current favorites, in no particular order.
Host, Jenny Lisk, is doing a fabulous job interviewing widowed parents, experts in the field of grief and people who lost a parent when they were young, for her podcast. Jenny’s webpage is clear and accessible. She has a wonderful ‘Start Here‘ page where episodes of the show are clearly divided into sections, with guests’ names listed alongside numbered episodes. Episode 35 is a discussion with Allison Gilbert on keeping memories of our loved ones alive. In episode 54 we listen as Brennan Wood, Executive Director at The Dougy Center for Grieving Children & Families speaks about her own personal loss. And in episode 48 I tell my story of losing my mother when I was eleven and how her death has continued to impact my life to this day. There is something for everyone in this podcast including short “pandemic special” episodes like this one with Buffy Peters of Hamilton’s Academy of Grief and Loss.
2. Moving Beyond hosted by Psychic Medium Fleur and Grief Therapist Claire Bidwell Smith
This is a relatively new podcast and I love it. I attended a motherless daughter’s retreat with Claire a few years ago in Ojai and I’ve read and love all of her books. I’ve also seen Medium Fleur here in Portland, Oregon when she came to town for an event, the results of which blew my mind. In this podcast Claire offers tools to assist a person during their grief and then we experience a psychic mediumship session as Fleur connects each person with a loved one in the spirit world. I have not had a reading with Fleur but someday in the future I hope to. Check out this podcast if you’re curious about the after life. It’s both comforting and mind-blowing.
Sarah Shaoul has a beautiful, gentle voice and I could listen to her interview guests for hours at a time, and I have. I’ve listened to a few of these episodes back to back as Sarah thoughtfully raises questions about lessons associated with guest’s experiences. Each episode is varied as this podcast explores the different ways people grieve with a focus on the gratitude that allows us to keep going following a loss. In this episode Frances Badalamenti discusses becoming a mother as she loses hers.
I know most of you already know who Brene Brown is. Professor, lecturer and author of several best-selling books, Brene has spent her career studying courage, vulnerability, shame, and empathy. But did you know she has a podcast? And it’s so good! This particular episode with grief expert David Kessler, reveals what he has learned about love, loss, and finding meaning in his grief. An enlightening, comforting episode, I intend to listen to this one again and again.
5. Grief Out Loud hosted by Jana DeCristofaro and produced by The Dougy Center for Grieving Children & Families in Portland, Oregon
The Dougy Center provides support for children, teens, young adults, and their families grieving a death. They offer support and training locally, nationally, and internationally to individuals and organizations seeking to assist children in grief. This illuminating podcast offers a wide mix of personal stories, tips for supporting anybody grieving a loss and interviews with bereavement professionals. There are so many episodes worth listening to here, but if you are looking for one that addresses mother’s day, as it fast approaches, try episode 13 titled Grieving Through Mother’s Day. Edit update: Since writing this blog post I’ve been a guest on this wonderful podcast. Episode 177 is where I talk about The Relentless Nature of Grief.
I hope you find these interesting and helpful! Let me know in the comments below what you think and please feel free to share some of your favorite podcasts on the topic of mother loss and grief. Like or follow my public Facebook page here where I frequently post articles, quotes & information about mother loss, grief and the writing process.
Take care, Carmel X
“The most basic of all human needs is to understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them.” Ralph Nichols
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