You might think that someone who lost her mom 30 years ago would have gotten over it by now. It seems that Motherless Daughters never really “get over it”, they carry it with them wherever they go and in whatever they do. I was 16 when my mom passed away suddenly. I knew she was sick but did not know the extent of her illness or how serious it was. One day she was going to the hospital on a bad day and 9 days later she was dead. My worst nightmare had come true (well, at least half of it).
When I was a 
young girl, I can remember crying myself to sleep at night from the fear of losing both my parents at the same time, in a car crash or some other horrific event. I have to admit that most of my life was spent living in fear; fear of the unknown. Always imagining the worst things that could happen. You might think that after losing someone so precious so suddenly, one might start living life to the fullest, because you never know when your time will come. I did the opposite. I played it safe. Life went on as usual after she died. It was as normal as normal could be when you have a huge void in your life that sits in the middle of your gut. I finished high school and started university but soon found out that post secondary life wasn’t for me. I decided to work for a year and then go to college. Well, I ended up getting such a good job that I couldn’t leave it. When you start making good cash, who wants to give that up? I didn’t know what I wanted to do anyway. I loved to write and I loved to sew, but how would I make a living at that? So I had my comfortable, safe life with a good income, made a family with a man and his kids. We had the cat and the dog and many beautiful houses along the way. Cars, motorcycles, trips. Yup, I had it all!! Except true happiness. The kind you feel inside.
My whole adult life, I still had this void inside that I tried to fill with all kinds of stuff like food and alcohol and shopping. But all that stuff does is numb you so you think you’re happy, but you can’t really tell. As I approached the age of 40 and started creeping up to the age my mother was when she died, things started changing for me. My stepdaughters were all grown up and I no longer felt responsible for catering to my family’s every whim or need. I started questioning who I was and what I wanted in life. I was tired of living inside a little box, being safe, doing what I was supposed to do or what everybody expected me to do. So, when I was 43 years old, I left my husband. (There’s a little more to it than that, but that’s not what this blog is about.) At that time, I was just over 6 months away from being the exact same age that my mother was when she passed. It seems a lot of Motherless Daughters do this calculation at some point.
At the time she died, I know she was looking for her purpose, to do something meaningful with her life, other than just raising a family which, don’t get me wrong, is a marvelous feat in itself. I took this lesson from her from another dimension. I needed to do something more meaningful too, rather than just working 9-5 to pay bills and take care of everyone’s needs except my own. (And by meaningful, I mean something that matters to me, that makes a difference to me personally.) Five weeks after I left my husband, I met my current partner. He was so different from anyone I had ever met but exactly what I needed at that time. I’m sure there was a lot of eye rolling back then, wondering why I would want to dive back into a relationship so soon after leaving a 23 year one. I agree. I was determined to be on my own for a long time, be my own person and find out who I really was. 
But I couldn’t ignore this man and I’m glad I didn’t. He encouraged me to blossom into the person that I am today. He accepted every last thing about me from the way I looked to how I acted. (unless we are playing video games, that’s still a work in progress!) He allowed me to be myself, which I hadn’t felt for a very long time. Probably since I was 16. I started writing again, sewing again, I learned how to make friendship bracelets. He brings out my inner child, keeps me young and lets me feel passion. He made me feel and still makes me feel like I am loved unconditionally, the same way a mother loves her child. Even with all of this, so much love and affection that I haven’t felt since the last time I hugged my mom, there was still a void. Which I continued to fill mostly with alcohol. It’s been almost 2 years since I quit my day job of 25 years to pursue my dream of sewing for a living. 
It’s been a year and a half since we packed up our life and moved from Toronto to Vancouver in search of greener pastures (this winter though has proved to be whiter pastures than TO!). It’s been 2 years of new challenges, excitement and happiness. This is the happiest I’ve been since my mom was alive. But there is still a void in my gut.
Less than a year after we moved here, I found a group called Wildflower. It is a relatively small group of women living in (but not necessarily from) Vancouver and surrounding areas that ha
ve all lost their moms before age 21. It is a Vancouver chapter of an organization called Motherless Daughters, founded by Hope Edelman, author of the book by the same name, written in 1996. It has been a turning point for me to discover this book, finally and these women. In the 30 years since my mother’s death, I have met no one who lost their mom so young. I did not seek out therapy, nor did I look for any books to help me through. Life just went on. As I said previously, I just numbed myself through it all. And I thought I was fine. When I met up with the Wildflowers for the first time, WOW, what a powerful experience to be in the same room with a bunch of women who all know exactly what you’ve been through. It was extraordinary. So many different stories, but so many similarities. These are all strong and beautiful and courageous women that I am honored to know and now have in my life. I almost feel fortunate that I had my mom for so long, as a lot of the Wildflowers lost their moms at a much younger age than I was. Now, through them and with them, I am finally processing that tragic event so many years ago. Special thanks to the Wildflower founder and organizer, Michelle, who has become a dear friend. Because of her, I have found a place where I belong in a world where I always had a hard time feeling like I fit in. She connected me with resources to help me with my healing process, like tackling the task of writing My Mother’s Story.
It has been a challenge so far because Mom’s not here to ask questions, but nothing that I can’t overcome in time.
I stopped drinking alcohol 5 months ago only to find that I started filling the void with coffee and Netflix. I am working on filling it with good stuff like creativity and mindfulness. Iven has practiced mindfulness since he was young even before the passing of his own mother. He teaches me this practice on a daily basis leading by example, focusing on one task at a time. So I’ve taken Netflix out of the equation while I’m sewing, but I haven’t given up the coffee. I need at least one vice!
- I write every morning in my journal and some days I get good stuff, like this blog that came pouring out.
- I draw mandalas and colour them.
- I’m learning Spanish on Duolingo.
- I am addicted to borrowing library books.
- I take my dog to the forest every morning (best Wookie ever!).
- I make bracelets and sell them.
- I sew cool things that I design for my business, Meins Designs.
- I’m on the Board of Directors for Our Social Fabric, a textile recycling initiative.
- I edit a blog for Paula at The Art of Being Myself.
- I play Wii Fit (and one day I’m going to beat Iven in skateboard!)
- I’m writing a book.
- I volunteer at an animal sanctuary.
- I donate 10% of sales from my business to animal welfare.
I am all of these things. I love all of these things. I am all the things that my mother never had a chance to become. I try to fill my void with all of these things, but maybe it will always be there. I don’t know, it’s a continuous healing journey that maybe only another Motherless Daughter would understand. I’m just so grateful to have Iven and the Wildflowers and countless other loved ones that support me on my path.
I am a Motherless Daughter. My mother would be proud.
Jean Anne (Rock) Rhodes November 19/42 – September 2/86peace.love.happiness
C. xo
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