If only I knew then what I know now

A frequent theme in conversations I have with those who are about to say goodbye to someone they love, is that they wish they would have said certain things, or done more together, or the one which resonates with me most, is wishing they didn’t hold on to the anger for so darn long.

As I was growing up, I often wished my parents were more attentive. It might have been teenage angst, but I frequently felt overlooked, dismissed, and, in many ways, unloved. Carrying these feelings through your youth is challenging because you tend to equate their behavior with your own self-worth.

Both of my parents died before I turned 30. By that time, I was already a mother, striving to be the parent I aspired to be, rather than the one I experienced. I harbored anger for many years, a burden no one should bear. When they died, I didn't feel the sadness I now observe in sons and daughters at their parents' bedsides, and in some ways, I envy that.

I was there when they died, a few years apart from each other. I was in the room, I watched them take their last breath, but I was fifteen feet away; not holding their hand, not saying goodbye or saying last words that might bring them or myself comfort. I sat still, almost numb with no idea what all of this meant or how final death truly was. There was no one there providing the comfort and support I needed to understand what was happening or help me to feel less lost or alone. This is why I focus so intently on those last moments for the person who is saying goodbye; I don't want them to ever feel like I did. I know I can't change their past or how they feel, but at that moment, I can let them know they are not alone.

Working in hospice, I see a lot of families gathering around the bedside to say their goodbyes and I hear stories of their lives together and the memories they’ve shared. I can’t help but think, if my parents were still alive, would our relationship be different? Would I have let the anger go? Would I have grown up and realized that life was not nearly as horrible as I thought it was? Would they be proud of me and how hard I have worked all these years? Would they think I was a good mother and a good grandmother? Would we have a box full of photos from family gatherings? Would I cry at the bedside when one of them died and think how sad I am that they are gone? I would like to imagine that my answer is yes, to all of the above.

I only have one photo of me with my mom, maybe there are more, I just don’t have them. And I recently found one of me with my dad. I do not have a box full of memories, but I sure wish I did.

I let go of my anger a while ago, but I am reminded at every bedside how long I carried it, and what a heavy weight that was. I know I am not alone. When I am at a bedside I often see feelings of hurt and anger that was never resolved. And I hear words that should have been said a long time ago, but the anger and the hurt got in the way. I see regret and disappointment. I see people trying to make up for lost time, scrambling to say one more last word to somehow fix things and make them better. I hear apologies and witness forgiveness. I can’t help but think of the words I would say if given one more chance to say them.

If only I knew then what I know now.

I can't go back, none of us can. I don't know your situation, but if you're anything like me, here's some advice: don't carry the anger and disappointment with you anymore. This doesn't mean you have to forgive, and it might not change anything, but it could help you move through life with less burden. If we all move forward with a bit more patience and honesty, living with fewer regrets and seeking light even in the darkest corners, then when the time comes to sit by the bedside of a loved one with whom the relationship hasn't been ideal, we can simply thank them for the lessons they taught us and wish them a peaceful journey.

If circumstances were different and my parents were here now, I hope that when their time came, I would be by their side to say goodbye, without needing to revisit the past or express a lifetime of unspoken words.

I fiercely advocate for changing our culture around death and dying to benefit both patients and those saying goodbye. My goal is to ensure that after a loved one's passing, people leave without regret and with a sense of peace, having been prepared, supported, and guided to express themselves meaningfully.

At the end of the day, there are no do-overs, we know this for sure. I like to think that I am now living a life that will result in less regret when I am ready to die. I no longer carry anger, it's just too damn heavy. And when I am sitting with someone who is about to say goodbye, someone who does not have a box full of photos of memories shared with the person who is dying, I simply encourage them to feel whatever they have to feel, say whatever they have to say, and let their take-away be that they said goodbye. Sometimes, that is enough.

xo

Gabby