Thank you so much, Jessica, for sharing this. It hasn't been quite two years yet since I lost both my parents just 13 days apart. My mom's passing was after a long illness, but my dad's was a shock. I can relate to so much of what you're saying. I kept a running list of things I wanted to tell my parents, too. (I was lucky to be close with them both.) I told my son (who was 17 at the time) that I never really felt like an adult until my parents died. But the quixotic flipside to that is it hit me so hard that I'm now an orphan. Like you, I felt like I'd lost my backup, my North Star. Please know you're not alone, and thanks again so much for sharing your story!
I understand the grief, but I have to say we reserve the word orphan for children because it is a completely and profoundly different experience for a child not to have parents. Children are fully dependent on parents, for their very survival, and adults using the word diminish the reality of what orphaned children experience--profound trauma, often foster care, economic uncertainty. I lost my father as a child, and my life changed in ways that were far different than when I lost my mother as an adult. Not having either parent is a terrifying idea. I miss my mother every minute of every day, but I am capable of putting food on the table without her. I think of all the children losing parents in war right now, and my heart breaks. I appreciate your grief and the strange rudderlessness (new word!) of not having parents in the world anymore, but would choose not to use that word.
Of course I completely agree with you that the experience of being an orphan in childhood — and the horrible tragedy and trauma of it — does not compare to the experience of it during adulthood in any way. There is not necessarily any tragedy or trauma in this natural life progression during adulthood. However, there is research literature surrounding "adult orphanhood" and it is a concept that is talked about in psychology in books and studies, but I can see how people who have experienced orphanhood as a child would resent the two being compared. Maybe there needs to be a different term? That's why I ask if I can call myself an orphan in the title of my piece. I'm not sure myself if that's the appropriate term. Until I started researching "adult orphanage," I didn't even realize that my experience of this time is reflected in others' experiences. I'm sorry that you felt that using this phrase minimizes your own experience. I did not intend that at all.
I get that, and I liked that you asked the question. I am not offended. My answer is different, that's all. I would never use the term for myself and really think if it is used by psychologists, it's a shame. I think it is just so different. Losing my mother at midlife, after being her caregiver for decades and not having children, does have a profound emptiness. It is just different. And I was not an orphan either. I had a boss who was and again, the hell he had gone through was heartbreaking. I worry that we lose empathy for those who actually struggle when we merge these things.
I can relate so much to this. My mom died from lung cancer at the age of 64 in 2020, and my dad is Stage 4, on his last attempt at chemo for the same disease, so I know I will feel the same. I do feel lost without my mom as we would text and talk everyday.
Beautifully written, Jessica. I was just talking to my own mother about this; she is an only child and her parents were on the older side when she was born (37 and 43). Both died in their 80s, but my mom was still young both times; 39 and 50 when they passed. She's nearly 81 now and there are times, this is true, that she feels that untethered sense. And I pre-feel it! I am vastly fortunate to have, at 57, both my parents (my dad is nearing 87) and even though the world is tilting more toward me-helping-them, I still look to them for that center, holder-of-memories thing. I know I'm on borrowed time. I know I'll never be ready.
I remember being called an “orphan” after my last parent died, and like with you,children like Annie and friends appeared in my mind’s eye, but I was already 34. Life without parents is a tightrope walk without a safety net. Don’t look down! I’m 55 now and have done fine, but my second husband, age 56, still has four parents (divorce), and sometimes I envy him that - it’s like he hasn’t had to fully grow up yet - and he doesn’t really know what a blessing he’s had to have them for so long. Great post!
Dear Jessica, thanks so much for sharing your story here. Much of what you wrote hit home. I lost my dad about a year and a half ago, which seems like forever and no time at all. I especially appreciated your words: "...there is no adult in charge for you to call when you need to be rescued or even just reminded of your simple inner goodness." I felt this so powerfully after my dad died, as if I didn't know myself anymore without him here to tell me, that I was never as good as he believed me to be. So who was I? You describe your connection to your mother so lovingly, and I am so sorry for your loss — of both your parents. I've found that it helps me to write letters to my dad, and to continue conversations that I miss deeply. Again, thank you for writing so movingly about your experience.
"The reality is you will grieve forever." I think of that Elizabeth Kubler-Ross quote when I'm feeling sad about my father and others who've passed. Thank you for sharing this heartfelt remembering.
My father died less than a year before I became pregnant for the first time. It was such a weird (and still is) time, becoming a new mom while grieving his loss and wishing he was there to help usher me into this new phase of life. I started writing a lot of poetry in the year after his death and recently started sharing it on my newsletter as a way to help others feel less alone. Thanks for sharing your story here. You articulated things I've felt but haven't put language to, yet. 💗
Grief is so weird, isn't it? At any stage of life or at any age. It rocks you profoundly. Thank you for connecting with my story. And your substack is lovely and I can't wait to check it out more thoroughly.
I have only just discovered your writing Jessica but this is truly wonderful and I am smiling in recognition of all that yo have expressed. Thank you thank you thank you..
Thank you so much, Jessica, for sharing this. It hasn't been quite two years yet since I lost both my parents just 13 days apart. My mom's passing was after a long illness, but my dad's was a shock. I can relate to so much of what you're saying. I kept a running list of things I wanted to tell my parents, too. (I was lucky to be close with them both.) I told my son (who was 17 at the time) that I never really felt like an adult until my parents died. But the quixotic flipside to that is it hit me so hard that I'm now an orphan. Like you, I felt like I'd lost my backup, my North Star. Please know you're not alone, and thanks again so much for sharing your story!
I'm sorry for your loss, Holly. It feels comforting to know that others can relate.
I understand the grief, but I have to say we reserve the word orphan for children because it is a completely and profoundly different experience for a child not to have parents. Children are fully dependent on parents, for their very survival, and adults using the word diminish the reality of what orphaned children experience--profound trauma, often foster care, economic uncertainty. I lost my father as a child, and my life changed in ways that were far different than when I lost my mother as an adult. Not having either parent is a terrifying idea. I miss my mother every minute of every day, but I am capable of putting food on the table without her. I think of all the children losing parents in war right now, and my heart breaks. I appreciate your grief and the strange rudderlessness (new word!) of not having parents in the world anymore, but would choose not to use that word.
Of course I completely agree with you that the experience of being an orphan in childhood — and the horrible tragedy and trauma of it — does not compare to the experience of it during adulthood in any way. There is not necessarily any tragedy or trauma in this natural life progression during adulthood. However, there is research literature surrounding "adult orphanhood" and it is a concept that is talked about in psychology in books and studies, but I can see how people who have experienced orphanhood as a child would resent the two being compared. Maybe there needs to be a different term? That's why I ask if I can call myself an orphan in the title of my piece. I'm not sure myself if that's the appropriate term. Until I started researching "adult orphanage," I didn't even realize that my experience of this time is reflected in others' experiences. I'm sorry that you felt that using this phrase minimizes your own experience. I did not intend that at all.
I get that, and I liked that you asked the question. I am not offended. My answer is different, that's all. I would never use the term for myself and really think if it is used by psychologists, it's a shame. I think it is just so different. Losing my mother at midlife, after being her caregiver for decades and not having children, does have a profound emptiness. It is just different. And I was not an orphan either. I had a boss who was and again, the hell he had gone through was heartbreaking. I worry that we lose empathy for those who actually struggle when we merge these things.
I can relate so much to this. My mom died from lung cancer at the age of 64 in 2020, and my dad is Stage 4, on his last attempt at chemo for the same disease, so I know I will feel the same. I do feel lost without my mom as we would text and talk everyday.
I'm so sorry about your mom and your dad. And I'm sorry that you can relate to what I wrote.
Beautifully written, Jessica. I was just talking to my own mother about this; she is an only child and her parents were on the older side when she was born (37 and 43). Both died in their 80s, but my mom was still young both times; 39 and 50 when they passed. She's nearly 81 now and there are times, this is true, that she feels that untethered sense. And I pre-feel it! I am vastly fortunate to have, at 57, both my parents (my dad is nearing 87) and even though the world is tilting more toward me-helping-them, I still look to them for that center, holder-of-memories thing. I know I'm on borrowed time. I know I'll never be ready.
Thanks, Denise. And thank you for sharing. I think you're right. It's impossible to be ready.
Excellent narrative, Jessica.
I remember being called an “orphan” after my last parent died, and like with you,children like Annie and friends appeared in my mind’s eye, but I was already 34. Life without parents is a tightrope walk without a safety net. Don’t look down! I’m 55 now and have done fine, but my second husband, age 56, still has four parents (divorce), and sometimes I envy him that - it’s like he hasn’t had to fully grow up yet - and he doesn’t really know what a blessing he’s had to have them for so long. Great post!
"A tightrope walk without a safety net. Don't look down!" You're so right. Thanks so much.
Beautifully written. I hear you.
Dear Jessica, thanks so much for sharing your story here. Much of what you wrote hit home. I lost my dad about a year and a half ago, which seems like forever and no time at all. I especially appreciated your words: "...there is no adult in charge for you to call when you need to be rescued or even just reminded of your simple inner goodness." I felt this so powerfully after my dad died, as if I didn't know myself anymore without him here to tell me, that I was never as good as he believed me to be. So who was I? You describe your connection to your mother so lovingly, and I am so sorry for your loss — of both your parents. I've found that it helps me to write letters to my dad, and to continue conversations that I miss deeply. Again, thank you for writing so movingly about your experience.
Oh, your words "I didn't know anymore without him here to tell me, that I was never as good as he believed me to be." I feel those. Thank you so much.
Jessica, you may know it but if not, I think you'd like Mark Nepo's poem, The Sound of Feathers.
I looked it up. Beautiful. Thank you!
Beautifully expressed, Jessica.
Thanks, Nina.
Thanks for sharing this Jessica. I remember my dad saying "I'm an orphan" when his dad died in 1996 - he (my dad) was in his mid 40's.
Jessica I'm so glad you got up to write this. Thank you for sharing this intimate point of view.
"The reality is you will grieve forever." I think of that Elizabeth Kubler-Ross quote when I'm feeling sad about my father and others who've passed. Thank you for sharing this heartfelt remembering.
I don't know that exact quote, but I know that it is true. Thank you for sharing it.
My father died less than a year before I became pregnant for the first time. It was such a weird (and still is) time, becoming a new mom while grieving his loss and wishing he was there to help usher me into this new phase of life. I started writing a lot of poetry in the year after his death and recently started sharing it on my newsletter as a way to help others feel less alone. Thanks for sharing your story here. You articulated things I've felt but haven't put language to, yet. 💗
Grief is so weird, isn't it? At any stage of life or at any age. It rocks you profoundly. Thank you for connecting with my story. And your substack is lovely and I can't wait to check it out more thoroughly.
Thank you, Jessica! I'm grateful to have found this space and look forward to connecting in the future.
I have only just discovered your writing Jessica but this is truly wonderful and I am smiling in recognition of all that yo have expressed. Thank you thank you thank you..
Oh, thank you, Elizabeth! This made my day xo