My mum fought a year-long battle with Ovarian Cancer and died in 2018; it wasn’t an easy time, I will admit, but obviously, nothing compared to what she was going through.
On the day she died, as horrible and as sad as it was, it was a relief, not only because her suffering had finally come to an end, but so had mine. The years that followed were strange, and it has taken a long, long time to finally feel semi-OK about it all; although the pain will never go away, it just softens and becomes easier to manage.
Now I’m not one to keep emotions to myself, and my mum’s illness and my feelings about it all were well known to my friends and acquaintances at the time. There’s no ‘new information’ to digress; everyone knows it can be spoken about without the air of uncertainty that it could end in an awkward conversation.
But the situations you aren’t prepared for is when you make new friends, start a new job, or meet old acquaintances who weren’t there when everything was going on.
I had recently split up with my long-term girlfriend, and luckily for me, we hadn’t sold my mum’s unoccupied house, so I moved back.
In the age of working from home and Microsoft Teams, it’s easy to notice when someone’s background has changed from a nice cosy bedroom setting to an old-looking dining room.
I was so nervous when I had my camera on for the first time.
“Where are you?” I was asked multiple times.
“Oh, I’ve moved back home because I’ve split up with my girlfriend.” I replied, dreading the next question.
“I bet your mum is loving having you back home?” Of course, I would ask this question of someone else myself.
“Well, um, she’s dead.” I replied.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Awkward glance to awkward glance and…move on.
Being asked wasn’t my biggest fear, I am more than happy to explain my situation and the reasons for it. However, as soon as you mention the ‘D’ word, a strange awkwardness descends over the person who is asking the question, the apologies come out and the conversation is moved along. Maybe a work meeting or team catchup isn’t the place for a ‘deep’ conversation. But once it’s mentioned, it’s never spoken about again, and the person who asked the question and didn’t get the desired answer is thankful they avoided a potentially super awkward conversation. Still, I’m left feeling I missed out on an opportunity to talk about my mum.
I don’t hold it against anyone, not asking more, it seems to be the social etiquette and even some of the close friends I’ve made recently — who are amazing, by the way — haven’t asked about it, and it’s cool, no one has to.
But a recent event made me think about it, it is what ultimately led me to write this article and it was totally by chance. I have moved back into my family home, yes, but I have also moved back into the village I grew up in, and the parents of my old school friends never left.
I randomly bumped into one of these parents at the local pub; she said she’d heard my mum had died and asked, “What did your mum die of?” so I answered; she said it was nice to see you again and walked off.
I sat there and thought about it for a short while. She was the first person, in three years, that I could think of that had asked how my mum had died. Three years without anyone asking, it seemed crazy but it highlighted to me how much people don’t talk about it.
Maybe I’m partly to blame as I don’t offer it up as a topic of conversation but why would I? I’m not going to start a conversation ‘I want to talk about mum dying.’ whilst sitting at the pub talking about football on Wednesday evening.
The thing is, I want to talk about it, I’m sure as much as you want to know about it, but there seems to be an unspoken rule that you just don’t, maybe it’s British culture, or perhaps it’s worldwide, I don’t know.
There’s a fear that the other person might get upset or be offended that you’d asked, I can’t speak for everyone but I can imagine most people would feel relief at being able to speak about it in public, and will quickly let you know if it’s not OK.
So, please, ask me about it, as nothing would give me more happiness than talking about someone I love and one of the most special people to exist in my life.
Ps. The lily was my mum’s favourite flower.
—
This post was previously published on medium.com.
***
You may also like these posts on The Good Men Project:
 White Fragility: Talking to White People About Racism |
 Escape the “Act Like a Man” Box |
 The Lack of Gentle Platonic Touch in Men’s Lives is a Killer |
 |
—
Photo credit: Matt on Unsplash
Thank you for this article. I have found that those whose parent(s) have died are much more open to talking about it and sharing their experiences. Perhaps it was also because your friends parents who have experienced death or are closer to it are more willing to talk about it. I hope you are able to find more people to share memories of the mother you loved and who lives on in your memories of her.