{{{{{{{{{{pink}}}}}}}}}}}}

((((Hugs))) It seems the wrong person died. Sorry for being blunt, but I so understand your feelings about all of this.

I commend you for your effort. But.....I would not go all out for the Sunday dinner for your Dad. Plain dishes, take out food or a menu that requires little effort. He will complain no matter what, what you do will not make a difference no matter what , so make things easier for yourself.

Another thought. Bring it down to 3 times a month. See what happens. Ipink, you work hard all week, you deserve the weekends to relax and enjoy yourself.

I am sorry that you are going through this.

I know you don’t want advise but if I was in your situation I would start by asking my father if he would rather do something else on Sundays.

Even though he may have mental issues asking the question may get you an answer you can build the conversation on. If he says he would like to spend the time with you tell him he will be invited as long as he behaves like an adult guest should behave.

(I’d then start every other week dinners, do adult children really need to give up their day off work to entertain a parent?)

Going back to a family house and using the things that once belonged to him and your mother may bring him memories that he would rather not relive.

Good luck.

I used to go over to his house, but he has a tendency to be abusive, so I stopped being alone with him. The approach my husband and I have had is that if we are doing something we invite him to join us, and if he doesn't, we continue on our own. We don't always invite him to dinner, we invite him to lots of things. So we would be doing the Sunday dinners regardless. Some of the time I do go over to his house instead. And yes, that is the problem, he feels bad and misses my mom. But it was very tiring to always have to go over to his house. My husband is a SAINT to always go with me, since he enjoys it even less than me, since it is not his parent so he isn't as sympathetic. He doesn't have the positive history to counteract all the negativity. My uncle lost his wife, and he told me the same thing, he does not enjoy nice family dinners anymore, even though he can objectively appreciate that they are nice. It just reminds him that his late wife, my aunt who was a great cook, is absent. So that's the way of grief. My cousin and I also feel her absence acutely. It consoles us to carry on their traditions. But yes, it does not console the husbands. I get that. What bothers me is that my father cares not one whit about what might console me, about my grief. At least my uncle acknowledged the dichotomy and said he was sympathetic to the different ways we were processing our grief. He has even acknowledged that his grief is unfathomable, and I can at least understand that the depth of grief is bottomless for a wife of 72 years. Even 54 like my dad and mom had. But one must go on, since one does not have a choice. One of my favorite lines is from a song by Buffy St. Marie, "Life's for the living and death's for the dead, and the depth of a heart is a fathom unknown." It's a song about the grief Native Americans carry for what they have lost. So yeah, this was about my grief. I know all about my father's grief, we have to dwell on it endlessly. I know I just have to put up with it and I almost always do. But when do I get to have my hissy fits about my grief and have everyone bend over backwards to accommodate me?! (I'm just ranting here, I know that's not a mature or noble request!!)

I'm so sorry things are the way they are for you and your Dad. It's very sad to lose our parents in all the ways that we do. And to feel so powerless to change things. Sending you a virtual hug.

I do hope you use your mother's lovely china in her beautiful dining room every single day!

Poor everyone. Poor you for having to put up with Dad's behavior and for missing Mom so much. Poor Dad for being so very, very sad. Maybe you just reach a stage where you stop pretending to feel what you don't feel. He's miserable and he's going to say it and act it. Too bad he has to bring you down with him.

Enjoy Mom's nice items and feel her presence. Don't feel obligated to include Dad when he's rather be home moping.

I'm watching out for my very elderly mother. She tries to put on a good face but I know she is very unhappy and there is not a darn thing I can do about it. I dread the day when I have to clear out her enormous house packed with china, linens, silver -- all top quality.

Life's a b!tch sometimes.

My heart breaks for you, Pink! When my mom died, Dad went into a kind of depression, too, although he was (thankfully) still pleasant to us and to his caregivers at the retirement place they lived at. He just lost interest in life in general. One of the things that my siblings who lived nearby him did (we live across the country from them) to get him out of his apartment was take him for car rides. Dad’s mobility was a problem by then, so walking through stores or really anywhere, was not a good option. Sometimes there was chatting, sometimes reminiscing, sometimes just relaxing music on the radio and no talk. Dad especially loved drives along our beautiful Lake St. Clair. Many times they’d stop for a milkshake or a burger lunch at a drive through place. At almost 90, Dad’s appetite was minimal at best, but a small, simple cheeseburger was something that he perked up for once he’d taken the first bite of it. Is it possible for you to substitute your Sunday dinners that he’s obviously not enjoying anyway, with a scenic drive, a lunch out someplace like a McDonald's where you can eat in the car, etc.?

Oh, one other thing that Dad enjoyed those last six months before he, too, passed away was watching old reruns of shows like “Lawrence Welk”, “Mayberry” or whatever it was called, etc. Would your father enjoy watching things like that?

Regardless, though, perhaps he just needs to make peace with the thought of dying himself someday, and his time alone is helping him do that in his own way.

Whatever works best for you both, I wish you peace with it.

Thanks Lynne, I know we've talked before about how similar our dads are/were! The drive idea is a good one. We do take my dad out to many kinds of things and once the weather gets a little nicer, more options will open up. He really has to be careful during the winter and it becomes a very difficult time for him as he can't and shouldn't get out much. I wish he had family to stay with in a warmer climate!! I keep telling him that would be the benefit if moving into an assisted living facility--they bring things to you some of the time. But he will have none of that either.

Life is complicated, isn't it. I wonder whether there was ever a time in your father's life when he wasn't like this.

Life get's difficult for manipulative and controlling people as they age, particularly if they live to advanced age. They can't rely on their charm, good looks and physical prowess anymore. I'm sure my father's personality is fairly common. He got harder and harder to deal with as he got older and lost his physical and mental stamina. My mother managed my father's narcissism due to her having amazing powers of denial and also understanding the trauma that precipitates it!!

Yup Oly, that's basically it in a nutshell. The part about my father was just heightened irony. I can't enjoy those times anymore, either with or in honor of my mother. It would be nice to have someone to enjoy them with. That's why I posted here, I know some of you would enjoy doing something like that! My husband is indifferent to pretty things, but at least he indulges me in the dinners! I have to laugh when he puzzles about why I go ballistic because he sets the table and puts out un-matching plastic salad bowls with the nice china!

You sound like such a kind and generous person, and I'm so sorry you are going through this. I'm reading Women Rowing North right now, which is about women navigating the years between middle-age and old age. I'm barely into it, and one of the points the author has already made, which hit me right between the eyes, is how much loss the last phase of our lives will include. Of course I've always known this, but it's as if I'm truly realizing it for the first time. It may be because I've recently suffered the loss of two dear pets and have been reminded me of how physical and all-encompassing grief can be, how it manifests itself not only in sadness, but in loss of appetite, feelings of panic, etc. It is exhausting, and I'm grateful to be coming out on the other side of it now. So I guess all I could think of when I read that was, "OhmyGod, how in the world do people endure phases of grief upon grief upon grief..." The other feeling I've come to terms with recently is recognizing just how random life is. Lousy things happen and there just is no sense to be made of it. The loss of your mother so quickly after you moved back to be closer to her must have been especially devastating. Dealing with your difficult father on top of all this would bury some people. I hope you are able to work within some self-imposed limits to be the compassionate person you would like to be without losing your own emotional stability.

Oh yes BY, there is no mistaking late middle age is the time of grief. I said as much to my now husband then boyfriend when we first met at 50. I said that in the next ten years I was going to lose most of my family. I didn't know how or when, but it was inevitable. In the past four years, my father has lost both his older sisters and older brother, in addition to his wife. And my last cousin who cared much about family stuff died on my mother's side unexpectedly last year too. So I lost a whole group of people with whom I shared many meals and intimate times. And it's more than that. My cousin was one of the last people who had memories of our grandmother. She would come to visit and say, "Let's have tea on Grandma's china" the way Grandma used to serve it in the afternoons for family gatherings of our youth. Or I'd visit her and she's make one of Grandma's recipes in one of grandma's cast iron pans, etc. My cousin's family are interested in memories they shared with her, but have no interest in their great great grandmother, or me for that matter, due to religious differences. My cousin was one of the last ones who remembered tea at our great grandmother's house, which is where that tradition originated. As a cruel irony, due to a bladder condition, I can no longer drink tea. And I have no one to pass the tradition on to.

It's particularly difficult I think nowdays with far flung families that are often not intact and just aren't into family stuff. Some folks are into family traditions, some folks aren't, circumstances are different for different people. But I am acutely aware that the ones who did care are almost all gone from my life and I'm not seeing any youngsters in my social circle taking up the cause of afternoon tea or Sunday dinner. I know it still happens, but not in a way that I have access to. I did enjoy some family time at Christmas with my son-in-law and his new wife. She is very family-oriented although both she and the son-in-law come from divorced families and are themselves divorced with children from those other marriages. But she totally "gets" the importance of family, which is refreshing since she is so young. She's totally into the special dishes and the special traditions, etc. They live halfway across the country from us though. My best friend spends almost all her spare time with her local kids and grandkids, so I know it is not a loss that everyone experiences.

And I get that my dad is feeling unhinged. That's why we take sympathy on him and try to keep him moored. We do much more than just the dinners.

You're a good daughter, pink. To continue making an effort for dinners or outings in the face of what you describe just shows that you lead with your heart and Personally I think that's an admirable way to go through life.

Do you want your good memories to become bad ones, though?

Just a thought.

Vent away, I get it. My dad is such a downer, I can't tell you....He thinks only of himself, not about the effect his comments have on others. As long as he feels better to have said it, then it's all fine....Then the visits deteriorate.

I don't know what to do either...

But hugs to you for your patience, pink...

Sending my hugs to you as well pink.

This might or might not be appreciated but I just wanted to say that we women I think ask for permission to be ourselves almost too much. If we just be ourselves and do what we want to do other people will get used to it eventually. Especially if we all did it despite some inevitable abuse.

So sorry. Sending you thoughts of strength, comfort, patience and solace.

To be fair, it's not my father's inconsolable grief and grumpy attitude that bothered me that day, it was just the irony of thinking about how sad I was that I couldn't give the pleasure to the one who would have so obviously enjoyed it, not anger that the one who was there did not. I get why he does not, and that's valid. It was the contrast and lack of anyone to share the things that mom and I both loved that caused me grief. I probably shouldn't even have mentioned my grumpy dad, we are quite used to him.

Well, by mentioning your dad, it gave me permission to mention my own...so thank you for that.

I think a lot of us want to portray the ideal family. Great if you have one, but I think the majority don't. And yet we're loathe to tell it like it is...

I think we are in a big boat Penny! Not sure if that helps or not, but it does give some perspective! I can tell you know what I'm talking about! My husband and I deal with it sometimes with gallows humor, calling my dad "Eeyore" sometimes, which is pretty descriptive.

“Eeyore, the old grey Donkey, stood by the side of the stream, and looked at himself in the water. “Pathetic,” he said. “That’s what it is. Pathetic.”
He turned and walked slowly down the stream for twenty yards, splashed across it, and walked slowly back on the other side. Then he looked at himself in the water again.
“As I thought,” he said. “No better from THIS side. But nobody minds. Nobody cares. Pathetic, that’s what it is.”
There was a crackling noise in the bracken behind him, and out came Pooh.
“Good morning, Eeyore,” said Pooh.
“Good morning, Pooh Bear,” said Eeyore gloomily. “If it IS a good morning,” he said. “Which I doubt,” said he.
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, Pooh Bear, nothing. We can’t all, and some of us don’t. That’s all there is to it.”
“Can’t all WHAT?” said Pooh, rubbing his nose.
“Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush. ...I’m not complaining, but There It Is.”

―
A.A. Milne

I'm very sorry that you are in one of life's hard places right now Pink.

Would any of your newer friends enjoy the Sunday dinner experience with you more than your father does? And then maybe Dad's night is one without nostalgia.

Thanks for the AA Milne excerpt . CR, Pooh, and Piglet continued trying to reach Eyore on his own territory.

I have a friend that we've called Eyore. He's now has a tenant who is almost Tigger. I'm waiting for the show to begin.

Pink, you are such a graceful and kind person. Your mother's bedrock values of family, and appreciation of beauty thrive in you. I am so sorry you have no one to share these passions with right now; that could change. I know you are incredibly busy right now, as a newlywed, a scientist and a daughter, but one day you may find others who share your values or you may help introduce a new cohort to the pleasures of afternoon tea and conversation, spreading the ritual's civilizing effects far and wide.

As for your father, he probably has no idea of how his words and moods affect the people around him. From your posts, I imagine you practice a compassionate detachment, which is such a gift to both you and him.

Rats. Pink, I have a DH who is one in a million who is unable to set the table for dinner correctly. (Correctly = by how I grew up). He is always willing to try, so I give him full credit. I struggle with my relationship with my father (who taught me how to speak correctly, as well as my table manners. He's an incredibly self-sufficient person who's always marched to his own drummer). Both ends of the continuum.

I was incredibly lucky to have two amazing mothers-in-law. My first one taught me to use the good silver daily - which is something I follow to this day. My love of entertaining has very much come from her, lessons of logistics.

If you love to entertain, then I'd suggest continuing to do so (with or without DF), using the wonderful things and traditions which which you have grown up. Book club? Neighborhood bridge / cards / other ... Edited to add: Sunday lunch.

We have some lovely traditions we've implemented in our neighborhood, including an Easter brunch the Saturday before, a Labor Day cookout (year 15!),and Latke night (some time early December). I also like to host family birthdays. The Labor Day cookout is out on the circle (unless it rains) but other events are at the house, where I always use our plates and silver and linens. One year, DH's 65th, I broke down and bought 'china quality' plates from Costco. I could not throw them away so washed all salad and dinner plates and put them away for another use... and cringe every time I see them in the basement.

To honor your mother, I'd suggest hosting events she would have loved - just find the right guest list. Book club? Adjacent neighbors? Murder mystery (I miss those!). Best of luck, oldbat2be

We call my dad Eeyore, too.

Or Debbie Downer....It depends :)

Me: "Look at all this lovely sunshine dad!!"

Dad: " I better go get my hat because of the skin cancer"

Sorry you’re having to grieve for and honor your mother without anyone else who knew and appreciated her joining you in your grief and memories, Pink. Family relationships are complicated.

I'm so sorry for your loss, Pink. I can relate on one level...you're losing your mom soon after finally being together. My dad finally relented and agreed to come live with me, but only survived two weeks.

But, as I was reading your posts, a thought struck me. Why not start an occasion at maybe your local library, hall, after school etc. where you can set up a very pretty table/tables and have a new generation appreciate the prettiness of things. Start a biscuit/tea party, inviting adults as well as children.

On another note, I firmly believe that those that have gone onto their next journey, can still feel the energy left behind. She knows you are enjoying her beautiful things. Next dinner, raise your glass and toast the one that instilled in you a love of all that is beautiful.

So hard! It's heartbreaking when those we want to love and create good memories with make it virtually impossible to do so.

Have you tried getting some counseling over this? Forgive me if I missed any mention of this, but it might be helpful, I believe.

It is so hard when you miss your mother. Sending you my warmest wishes for tea parties to come.

Ah, Pink, it's hard, isn't it.

I'm on a different side of the experience: mom is still here but in memory care, and her China sits unused in the dining cabinets, along with the various wine glasses, linens, and accoutrements from 70 years of entertaining. She doesn't miss it at all, doesn't remember it.

I tried bringing some over for a small party, really just cake and coffee, in her suite at memory care, but the whole affair was so complicated that now I get nice paper or plastic plates that we can just throw in a trash bag and take home to throw out. Actually, I place them in the bag in a picnic basket lest mom think they are going to break.

It makes me sad because I think she would appreciate seeing the nice things, but it's really just too much to handle for me. Part of that is just handling my mother with dementia, and my father, who doesn't understand how to work with persons with dementia. But also setting up, cleaning up, without distressing mom or inconveniencing the staff or disrupting mom's routine too much, not to mention schlepping back and forth. A simple cake and coffee takes all day.

bpath - ((hugs))

This may sound harsh, but if I were i were in your situation, I think I would just get mad and throw me a real “hissy-fit” and tell him just what I think about his attitude. -almost like you would a child who is refusing to accept things as they are, not the way you want them to be. I know he is grieving, is sad, feels like his life is over, etc, but remind him of your feelings, your grief, your efforts to move forward, while at the same time still missing your mom.

Remind him that he needs to appreciate what health he still has, to appreciate his daughter, be thankful he has you in his life, and that you are there for him to add some quality to his life. Remind him he NEEDS to work on enjoying what life he has left and that he needs to try. Heck, just tell him you are tired of trying to be the good daughter and bring some happiness to his life if he does not put forth some effort. remind him that there are a lot of elderly people who have NO FAMILY to spend time with them.

i know this sounds harsh, but sometimes elderly need to be dealt with like a stubborn child or teenager.

Hugs to you! He needs to be pushed and reminded of how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Oh pink, I'm so sorry you're dealing with this. I'm in the camp where I think you should save the really nice dinners for your husband and friends.

I cared for each of my parents before they died (within a year of each other), and then for my fil who had a massive stroke and died. My mil was in a very dark place for the two years after his stroke until he died; she was so angry and bitter, and since then her more sunny personality has returned. But she can still be challenging -- as we come on up on the fifth anniversary of my fil's stroke, she's reviewing a trip they took just beforehand to visit their daughter and grandchildren, and thinks that if they hadn't gone on the trip (because he hadn't seemed very well just beforehand), that he might still be alive. Argh. She is determined to live in the past and "what if" herself to bits, and willingly forgets that at the time of the stroke he was in his late 70s with early Alzheimers. I can only listen to her for so long before I have to make an excuse and beg off.

I know you said you don't want/need advice, but I think it helps to realize that there's only so much we can sometimes do for an older parent, and there's only so much we can be responsible for, even when mental illness is an issue, so we have to be sure to look after ourselves. And that might mean removing ourselves from a constantly negative situation. The stress has such awful consequences, mentally and physically.

Do something with him once or twice a month -- and since he doesn't care about the niceties, make it as easy and light and pleasant for you as possible, takeout or something.

Such things as telling off a mentally ill person do no good. They create negative karma and don't impact the negative person in any way other than to reflect back at them the negative energy they are giving out, which is how their life is going anyway, most of the time. I have already tried that strategy to the max and long-ago abandoned it.

There are two issues for me. One is handling an aging parent with mental difficulties. The key is compassionate detachment. It would be the same if you had a younger relative who refused help for something like addiction, etc. Some people can't handle it and completely cut off all contact with the sick person. I have seen that play out in many families. Others get completely caught up in their family's dysfunction. I am treading a middle path, and I think I do that quite well . . . most of the time. My father's sickness frustrates and saddens me, but that is not the source of grief for my mother. It is occasionally painfully ironic, but that is just the tip of the iceberg with him. Mentally ill people do not learn from their mistakes or learn from advice given by other people. If they did, they would not be sick. Sometimes there is no fix, just accept and detach. You know, the old "let go and let god" of AA. I think I was not clear that I am already pretty much in that space as far as self-care goes. That isn't really the source of my grief.

It's not just when I'm with my father that this grief for my mother hits me, so I probably shouldn't even have brought up his presence at the dinner. It is just that I so often do or see things I could have done with my mother so easily which would have made her happy, and it pains me to try and still do them, and find it difficult to find anyone ELSE who actually enjoys them the way my mother would. My husband does not, my father does not, and I have few relatives to share old memories with. I do tea parties for work also, and other things for work my mother would have enjoyed. Not the same thing. No one else in my social circle is knocking themselves out to carry on family niceties that include me. So yes, I can do it and I do, but I don't really have a partner in crime and my energy is limited. There are only so many tea parties I can plan. BTW, my whole wedding reception last summer was a tea party in honor of my mother. My cousins helped me do that. Then my cousin died six weeks later. But I still have a lot in common with her daughter and we do whatever we can when we can, but she lives quite far away. It's rare when I can get a friend or family member to visit, most are tied up with kids or grandkids. As a side note, the last time I saw my mother I came over for Sunday dinner, helped her cook and serve and cleaned up from it and left her with a batch of muffins for that next week's tea or breakfast. So I did what I could when she was alive. She never got to finish the muffins, she died from a fall while unloading groceries later that week, she had gotten home at tea time but didn't get that last tea break which would have come after the groceries had been put away.

It pained me so to go to a church function at Christmas, one I had attended as a child, and see zero home-made food at the reception, and all paper plates even though the church had a full set of nice dishes--no one volunteering to wash them in the full kitchen that goes unused most of the time now. In their defense, the older ladies who were there were working hard to pull it off, the same group that I see almost everywhere and the ranks are thinning. So it's not just an issue of my mother passing on, that whole genteel way of life is fading away. I belong to some of the social and charity groups my mother belonged to, the ranks get thinner and thinner and older and older, with no young (we're talking 40's or early 50's) people to take their place. Not to mention the professional and community clubs that have just left town already, like AAUW, for example. I can't hardly get a friend to have the time to come over for a nice dinner, even if I could pull one off, most are sandwiching just like us.

Well, then I think you need a spa day and treats and a good cry and a good scream every so often : ) . Rant away, we're here with virtual hugs!

You are grieving for the loss of your mother and sad for the loss of how things used to be.

I am sure your mother would want you to be happy and not feel the responsibility of keeping things as they once were.

I do hope you find peace.

Would an organization like griefshare be of help?

Grief Share

Pink, I am so sorry for the comments I made; I did not realize that your father had mental issues. Of course, you are not going to be able to talk him out of his state of mind with a “shape up or ship out” lecture or advice.

I hope you find a way for peace and happiness in your life.

It is just that I so often do or see things I could have done with my mother so easily which would have made her happy, and it pains me to try and still do them, and find it difficult to find anyone ELSE who actually enjoys them the way my mother would. My husband does not, my father does not...

I think the key is perhaps not so much the tea parties and associated rituals per se, it is regret. And that's understandable, I think we often have some regrets when we lose someone about something more we could have done to enjoy them while they were with us or to show them how much they were loved.

So maybe think of it that way. What can you do today to enjoy your loved ones (and enjoy yourself) and show them how you love them. These Sunday meals do not seem to be giving anyone joy.

So let's not create more regret.

Is there something, anything, that makes your Dad happy? If there is, do it. Ask him. If he says nothing, and you can think of nothing, take him at his word. Tell him you are there when he needs you, but curtail time spent with him. It is not making you happy and maybe it is not helping him either. When people get old, the veneer comes off and they tell you what they really feel or want. Don't fight it.

Turn your attention to your loved ones. How would DH love to spend Sunday afternoon? Forget the fancy dinners and do what he most loves. Imagine it is x years from now and he has passed, what would you have wished you had done more of to make him happy?

If you personally still want to do teas, for your own pleasure maybe host one at an old aged home once a month.

Start doing things that sustain you and the ones you love. That is the lesson, not the particulars, no?

Not really regret. Just sad at not only seeing my mother go, but her generation with much of the class and commitment to work, family and community that seems to be going with them. I do seek out kindred spirits to keep the flame going where they can be found. I don't feel like I have to keep doing these things for my mother's sake, I actually like doing them. I do them alone most of the time. And that's the grief, just knowing she would have enjoyed it. Would be nice to have some other people in my life who still do. They are few and far between.

I used to feel this way when I would make a lovely dinner for myself in my single days, sorry that I was the only one enjoying it, when I figured someone else surely would have liked it. Now I don't have that problem with food, my husband likes my cooking!! He is a blessing, he's such a good eater. He's indifferent to nice dishware and linens, and he doesn't have a sweet tooth, but he cleans his plate and helps wash up!

You're still grieving...I don't think we just mourn a body's loss. There's a whole life that's not there anymore. Sights and smells and odd little foibles and particular turns of phrase and habits...

(((pink)))

This thread has reminded me about the heavy-heartedness that comes with age, as we ourselves get closer to the horizon, and at the same time, if we're lucky enough to have them in our lives, our parents and other loved ones get even closer to that edge of existence. The realization of my nearing mortality, and that I don't have as much time left to correct or fix the things I want to can be terribly discouraging and frustrating.

I've experienced my own sadness with our family situation, and I realize that there really is no escaping the feelings, no matter how much I wish I could. I realize I need to accept what is and try to do my best.

I'm by nature a pretty hopeful and positive person, and I think perhaps that might make it harder for me to bear emotional hardships. There's a part of me - my inner child? - that still wants to run away and hide from pain, and wish in vain for the hurtful people to change.

Someone said this to me awhile back, and I find myself repeating it often these days:

"Hurt people will hurt people."

FWIW, my 2 cents

My mother passed last year at 92 yo. I thought I was doing well, but got talked into a grief group put on by hospice. Turned out to just be 4 of us with 2 facilitators. Losses were different and not necessarily recent, one mother, one brother and one child. We each were assigned one session where we could speak about our loved one for however long we wanted, no interruptions, no questions til we finished talking. Besides being quite bonding hearing someone else's personal story, I found it incredibly healing to be able to just talk and talk about my mother. It was very different than a conversation going back and forth. I felt comfortable going all over the place with it, including the effect her final tough year had on my sibling relationships. I spoke about hour and a half (!) and I felt so much lighter afterward. I am throwing this out there just to say grief groups are not just for folks really having a hard time. I went more out of curiosity actually,

I do miss all the customs and special times with my Mom so much. The world has definitely changed.

I do belong to one group, PEO which is a international org that promotes education for women, and the ladies range for 30s to 90s, more on the older side now. We recently had our little fundraiser as an elaborate tea party, with the younger gals doing the heavy lifting of putting it together, but so enjoyable for all, maybe because it is so not everyday life. I hope you might find a like-minded group that appreciates the things that you do. I think they are out there somewhere. Just have to find them. I wish you well-it is a hard time in life when you lose your parents.

Thanks Pat, really great to hear about that cool tea! I do find comfort in any chances to carry on those old traditions and do it whenever I am able.

This really was about how much I enjoy sitting down to a nice meal or tea with the good china, and how that was something that my mother also enjoyed so something we shared. It was a taste and habit passed down through my grandmother from my great-grandmother and I imagine she got it from her family in the Netherlands. Great grandma had eight daughters, and there's not a cousin or child of a cousin who isn't familiar with that tea tradition and culture. My generation was/is the last one though, the younger ones aren't interested and didn't pick it up for a whole variety of reasons. That I don't have a regular tea compatriot in my life has made me even consider opening a tea house.

Same with Sunday dinner. I am grateful that I now have a husband to share them with. For decades actually, single-me would cook on the weekends and sit down to a nice meal by myself and feel bad that there was no one else to share what was certainly something worth appreciating. And yes, I hosted dinner parties and cooked for friends and family and got involved with social and community groups associated with food, (including the Cooking Forum here and community meal sharing that takes place in various ways in my home town) but it really wasn't that much overall in the grand scheme of things, and did not take the place of the experience of sharing a weekly Sunday dinner with family. Now that I have that, at least with my husband, I can compare and verify what I already knew. And if I lose it again, I will go back to making the best of it, like Carol mentions. Realizing that all people suffer loss, there is nothing special about you in that regard, is the starting point for active compassion. Thank you all for sharing your stories, they and you are beautiful!

P.S. Although DH isn't "into" china, he will help me wash and dry it, and that does count for a LOT!