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I'm reading "Like Death" by Guy De Maupassant, and was struck by this passage about the woman character writing after her mother's death:
"We buried her yesterday, and since her poor lifeless body has gone out of this house it seems to me that I am alone in the world. We love our mothers almost without knowing or feeling it, for such love is as natural as it is to live, and we do not realize how deep-rooted is that love until the moment of final separation. No other affection is comparable to that, for all others come by chance, while this begins at birth; all the others are brought to us later by the accidents of life, while this has lived in our very blood since our first day on earth. And then, and there, we have lost not only a mother but our childhood itself, which half disappears, for our little life of girlhood belonged to her as much as to ourselves. She alone knew it as we knew it; she knew about innumerable things, remote, insignificant and dear, which are and which were the first sweet emotions of our heart. To her alone I could still say: 'Do you remember, mother, the day when--? Do you remember, mother, the china doll that grandmother gave me?' Both of us murmured to each other a long, sweet chapter of trifling childish memories, which no one on earth now knows of but me. So it is a part of myself that is dead--the older, the better. I have lost the poor heart wherein the little girl I was once still lived. Now no one knows her any more; no one remembers the little Anne, her short skirts, her laughter and her faces."
It's something not often mentioned, how we lose the link with our own childhood.
It's something not often mentioned, how we lose the link with our own childhood.
This is so true. I'm familiar only with De Maupassant's short stories, so I had not read your passage before. He's a beautiful writer, and captures this kind of grief so accurately.
Ah mothers, my mom passed in 2000 at 91 so a good long life and gone almost 20 yrs. And just tonight after dinner with a friend and walking out of the restaurant, I said to her. "Gee, I miss my mom, would love to pick up the phone and hear her voice"....
I've lost my dad, 2 brothers and then my mom in july. I can't believe how hard my mom's death hit me. I thought i was prepared. I have a strong belief in the afterlife, so it isnt even that. It's that she isn't here. I miss her so much. I still start to call her when something funny happens, or there is a gorgeous sunset, to tell her "hey, go look at the sunset"...then i remember. I'm in the process of cleaning out her house, and its just so hard. So yes. Losing a mom is probably the hardest loss for a daughter.
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Interesting. I lost my mom and my dad in the last decade. I dream of them often. When I dream of my dad, I'm so surprised to see him - I had thought he was dead! In my dreams of my mom, there isn't a thought she's dead, she's just there, as herself. It's like there's a part of my mind that won't accept she's gone.
Some people haven't enjoyed a nurturing relationship with their mother. I didn't. I was not blessed with a healthy, nurturing, loving mother. My mother was mentally ill, and then she developed dementia. So overwhelmingly, my memories of my mother include defensiveness, frustration, fear, irritation, and pity.
Now granted, my mother passed away just a week ago, but this is the honest truth - I literally don't recall ever one time picking up the phone just to talk with her or share something - honestly, the less she knew about my emotions, the less she could try to manipulate situations. Now in her defense, she did try to overcome some of her emotional and mental health issues, but she desperately needed professional help and she refused that. What this left our family with was a woman in the grips of bipolar disorder, who would fitfully reach out, try to make amends, try to be loving and affectionate, only to fall back into the grips of mania or depression within a few days. What a roller coaster ride. By the time I was in my early thirties, I was so tired of it all that I vowed never to allow myself to be lulled into complacency again with her.
And long story short, I ended up "inheriting" her. No one else was there for her as she slipped from bipolar disorder into dementia.
It was a very long, very difficult road with my mother and right now I basically feel relief and peace. And I'm not even sure I'll ever feel distraught over her passing, or her absence in my life. I mean, I already went through a couple of rounds of professional counseling and I feel like I have assimilated my emotions and memories about her, I've already grieved over an idealistic relationship that was never really there and the dashed hopes that it would ever be there, and I had already reached a point of forgiveness, acceptance, and basically resignation by the time she passed away.
So there's another perspective, and I hope it doesn't sound terrible. It's honest though, and it's valid.
Hopefully those who had a better experience with their moms can be even more grateful as they read this different account.
This is so true. I'm familiar only with De Maupassant's short stories, so I had not read your passage before. He's a beautiful writer, and captures this kind of grief so accurately.
Yes, I think this may be a "new" De Maupassant, only recently published in the U.S. for the first time.
This is a powerful thread. It really hits home. The loss of my mother rocked my world unlike anything I have ever known (and it was not even a very healthy relationship). It is like losing a part of yourself along with her. Yes, our childhood - it is like losing our inner little girl forever. But know one will ever know us like our moms. That won't change, and that is good.
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