The Mourning Before: A Reflection on Loss, Healing, and the Dash
We have the definition all wrong. It doesn’t start with a death; it starts with a decline.
We often associate mourning with an act after the death of a loved one. If you go by the Oxford definition, mourning means: the expression of deep sorrow for someone who has died.
However, mourning begins much earlier, before death. It starts when it becomes apparent that one will soon leave a hole in the fabric of life.
“Mourning doesn’t start after their death. It starts at the beginning of their decline.”
When we look at Genesis 27:41, “And Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing wherewith his father blessed him: and Esau said in his heart, The days of mourning for my father are at hand; then will I slay my brother Jacob,” we understand that mourning began when Isaac felt his body declining.
The biblical definition of mourning, H60 from the Strong’s Concordance, states אֵבֶל ʼêbel, ay’-bel; lamentation:—mourning.
As we look more deeply into lamentation, it is the pouring out of our intense grief, suffering, and pain to the Most High, asking for help during this difficult time. It is a time when we move from dealing with the human aspects of our hurt, pain, and complaining to faithfulness and belief in El Shaddai.
A Different Perspective Tomorrow
No matter the relationship, no matter the past, no matter the complications, watching someone decline before your eyes gives you a different perspective on life. It gives you a different perspective on tomorrow.
For those who have followed me over the years, it is well known that my mother and I have had an interesting relationship.
I went from writing a motherless blog to overcoming three divorces from her to acknowledging and healing from the fact that the group of women who raised me to be who I am today does not include her.
Yeah, she provided, she sheltered, and she clothed. But the woman I am today can name the women who stood in that gap, training, supporting, and nurturing me.
“The woman who should have taught me the things that I knew wasn’t blood. It was the family that Yahweh created for me.”
I’ll never forget one of the first rooms I was in on Clubhouse, where we actually had to talk about ourselves. When I had to describe what people would say I couldn’t do in my life because I couldn’t describe myself directly, I literally had to give the opposite of what was asked. The person I was describing most in that soliloquy was my mother. ‘Cause she was always negative, and her perspective of me came from her mouth to me.
Then we had Women’s History Month, and we had to speak about the women who meant the most to us. I told them I didn’t think I should speak. I didn’t want to speak because I’d been listening to everybody rave about their mothers and grandmothers. And I couldn’t speak about either in my life.
The Complex Reality of Caretaking
But now, as I sit here mourning my mother, we really gotta change the definition of mourning. As I sit here, I have to grapple with that factor. Because with that factor comes dealing with three other men, who are probably not going to be very sane about it, and one of them being my brother.
He was just as abused as I was growing up. But we’re both her main caretakers right now. And I don’t know if he, in his fifty-three years, has finally heard her directly say anything close to the three words I never heard. Though I still never heard “I love you” directly, I did hear “I appreciate you.” It’s still a time to hear that, to hear “I love you” honestly. But then a comment she made recently can shroud that. You have to know my mother.
I’m not sure where he is in his healing process, because I know he still holds a lot of unresolved hurt when it comes to the three of us. But he cares for her, and when you see those two together, you’d think they’re an old married couple. They’re good—but only as long as I’m not around. He also understands that he needs me to be around. But that’s a whole other conversation.
But I understand that we also mourn differently.
A Biblical Case for Mourning in Advance
And I say we misconstrue how we mourn, ‘cause when we look at Genesis 47, Esau clearly says, “When the period of mourning is over for my father,” then he’s going to deal with his brother. And Isaac was nowhere near dead. Jacob went away for over twenty years and came back, and his father was still very much alive.
So, mourning doesn’t begin when a person dies. That’s when our grief kicks in. Mourning starts when you know the end of that dash is coming, maybe quickly, maybe not, upon you because your body is no longer responding the way it used to.
“Mourning doesn’t happen once a person dies. That’s our grief that kicks in then.”
When Isaac went to bless Esau, he said, “I don’t know how much more time I have. My eyes are failing, my body’s failing. I don’t know how much more time.”[1] When Abraham was preparing for Isaac to take over, he went to make sure Isaac had a wife. He didn’t die immediately, but the mourning period began.
Yes, when we get to Jacob after hearing about Joseph, he says, “For I will go down into the grave unto my son mourning.[2]” So it doesn’t stop after one’s death, but it does start before one’s death. This is the mistake most people make: not understanding how to handle the mourning that comes before the death, especially given the relationship one may have.
For Those with Beautiful Relationships
For those who have a beautiful relationship, this is the time to build memories. You get the secret recipes. You solidify the stories that have always been told, so you can pass them down to the next two, three, or four generations, so the family patch will always be part of the family blanket.
There won’t be a hole there because the memories, the stories, will always fill it in. You learn the recipes; you write them down. You spend time. You stop putting off “I need to visit” and actually show up, so the guilt that can come with grief has no room.
For Those with Complicated Pasts
For those who may not have that perfect relationship, if you haven’t already healed, and you can only heal by forgiving, you start that process now.
Forgiveness is never for the person who offended you. It’s for yourself. In my case, I’ve forgiven my mother. I wrote her letters, and we tried to have conversations, but I can’t force her to deal with what she doesn’t want to deal with.
But I let my mother know what happened in our childhood. I let her know that I wasn’t protected and what she allowed to happen to me, and I let her know that she stopped being a mother to me. But I also forgave her. Lord knows I’ve forgiven her.
“Forgiveness is never for the person who offended you. Forgiveness is for yourself.”
It’s the only way I could be right now to do what I do, ‘cause I never thought I would be back here in this position I’m in as her main caretaker.
But I needed to release myself, and I needed to heal that little girl inside me so I could be whole and complete, not this evil little villain who would do her harm in the process of caring for her, because then I would just be as wicked as she was. It’s not my nature, never has been.
Can she still ruffle my feathers? She can, and I’m like, “Get away, Yahweh. It’s time for me to go home. Deal with your child.”
Understanding the Wound to Understand the Wounder
Because I understand that my mother is nothing but a ball of unresolved hurt, pain, and unforgiveness from what was inflicted on her when she was young, and I think that helped me understand why my mother is who she is, ‘cause my mother’s abuse was never addressed.
My mother never healed from her abuse. My grandmother never lived long enough after she brought her youngest child home with her own children to the house of horrors… the home that is still in our family to this day.
To partially heal their relationship, she made amends, which led to my mother returning to New York. A woman, nearly seventy years old, got on a plane, left New York, and came to Dayton, Ohio, to retrieve her baby girl.
Because she was watching the abuse committed by her oldest children and being abused by her next-to-youngest child, and she understood she needed her baby girl home, she made some amends. But she didn’t live long enough to set many things straight. And I don’t know if she ever said the words her daughter needed to hear, honestly. She didn’t get enough help from the abuse of her abusers, and she fought them in court until she kicked them all out of the house.
“The secrets we keep in our family, the ones we tend to take to our graves, have killed many of us mentally and internally, slowly.”
The secrets we keep in our family, the ones we tend to take to our graves, have killed many of us mentally and internally, slowly. We allowed those secrets to destroy many generations.
But the mourning period sometimes brings all of that out.
The Next Generation Sees Clearly
I went to speak to my youngest, and I said, “My mother is very sick.” He said, “I don’t think this is her time just yet, but now I know I have to deal with you.” I said, “What is that supposed to mean?” He said, “I said it, and I spoke with her for two hours. This is the nicest she’s ever been.” Yeah.
I know she’s dying, but I’m the one who’s going to be least affected by it among everyone in the bloodline around her, and that’s because they had a tumultuous relationship at first. ‘Cause my mother wasn’t where she is now when they first met, and my son has learned to forgive her, but they never formed the proper grandson-grandmother relationship.
He has respect for her because she is my mother, but he doesn’t have a grandmotherly relationship with her. Then again, he deals with death completely differently because of the prior deaths he’s already experienced in his life and how they affected him. And his only concern right now is me.
And I’m like, “No, I’ll be fine.” He’s like, “Stop lying. The only ones who’re gonna know how to deal with you are Auntie and me. So thank you for giving me a heads-up.” And I looked at him, and I’m like, “Hmm, interesting.”
So he sees the signs, and certain things are in place. Most likely, there won’t be a memorial service, to a large extent. We don’t have to worry about different things. Her need to control has already put certain things in place.
Mourning Those We Couldn’t Say Goodbye To
But to understand mourning and how you thrive, how you survive, I should say, is interesting.
When the two women who were like a mama passed away, I wasn’t able to be by their sides. One was during COVID, and one was in another state, and I had just given birth to my baby. I was pregnant when they told me she was dying, the one I loved the dearest, who was really there in my young years.
I was in a high-risk pregnancy and couldn’t fly to her, and I had two young children with no support, so I couldn’t come to her. So I couldn’t be there to say my final goodbyes.
For the one who gave birth to me, the plan and all that she hasn’t done yet, she took a lot of it out of my hands. ‘Cause she’s in control of everything, and she makes sure she’s in control all the way to the point she’s ashes to ashes and dust to dust, which is fine.
Heal Thyself
But in the mourning period, heal thyself, because you won’t be able to clear the waters when they close their eyes for the final time. Gather memories and write them down, ‘cause you can’t ask for that secret ingredient once that breath is gone.
“Mourning isn’t the black dress and veil. Mourning is the realization that the blanket, the family blanket of life, is about to have a hole.”
Mourning isn’t the black dress and veil. Mourning is the realization that the blanket, the family blanket of life, is about to have a hole. If you don’t have the right memories in place to fill that patch, that hole will forever remain open. So make a choice.
Yes, you will have a period of grief after they have closed their eyes for the final time. But I believe it’s how you handle your mourning that can guide your grief. How you handle your pain and hurt can guide how you handle saying goodbye.
‘Cause we don’t just mourn people who close their eyes for the final time. We mourn all relationships that end, if we handle them correctly. Mourning and grief go hand in hand in all relationships.
So I’m in my mourning period. Full-fledged now, ‘cause I’ve known this day was coming for a minute, but I have to fully acknowledge it for what I see. I don’t know when. She’s not imminent right now, but the signs are clearly there. So it’s time to prepare my heart and my mind.
A Promise Kept
But my Father did allow me to return home before she closed her eyes and for us to make amends.
Abba Yahweh never lets His promises go void, at least not in my case. He’s always faithful and true. The catch is that when we ask for something, we must do our part. Just as He promised Jacob, He would return him home to his father’s home.
“He restored my family. It’s fragile, but it’s restored.”
Now that I think about it, He returned me to my mother’s home. He actually restored my family. It’s fragile, but it’s restored. I’m just not sure how fully restored it is. Only Yahweh knows, but He can’t force my brother to do anything he doesn’t want to do. I can just be the child of Yahweh I’m called to be and let Yahweh deal with the rest.
But I understand we have a dash. He allowed my mother to have at least eighty-eight, maybe eighty-nine, years. We will see.
We don’t know. But for those who are part of your blanket of life, who will leave an open hole in your blanket, make sure you have the memories to fill in that patch. Even if they’re just neutral memories, ‘cause you healed yourself so the Father can forgive you, ‘cause you’re still alive. Or you have the memories that get passed down from generation to generation, so they know the angel who has gone on above before them.
[1] I paraphrase Genesis 27: 1-2
[2] Genesis 37:35 excerpt