How can we keep our parents alive, especially when doing so is a constant reminder of their death? Sometimes when a parent dies we can’t even say their name out loud. It hurts far too much. Saying their name dredges up too much pain, and it can feel hard and confusing to think about continuing to live without them. 

Sometimes it seems easier to keep the memory of our lost parent in the past where and when they lived. After my mother died I brought home so many items from her house, including the nativity set that she put under the Christmas tree every year since I was a young child. She died in August, and when December came I couldn’t bring myself to unpack that nativity. I felt guilty for not wanting to put it up, but I couldn’t bear to see it. The next year December came again predictably, and the same dreaded thing happened. I kept the nativity in the box. Even though it was something she had loved and cherished, it didn’t bring joy to me. It brought pain and sadness.

After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to say the words “my mother died” aloud when someone new asked about her. I couldn’t say her name without feeling my heart break. I couldn’t tell people that she had passed away or died without feeling my throat collapse inside. Saying those words felt like I was accepting that she was gone, and I absolutely wasn’t ready to do that. I wanted her to be alive. I needed her to be alive. I simply could not say that she wasn’t. 

Though your parent who died can’t actively be a part of your life now, can’t see their grandchildren grow up, listen to your troubles, or cheer for your accomplishments, over time I discovered that it is still important to keep your parent alive, to let them back in. I’m very sorry to say that I think part of what made this happen was simply the passage of time. I wish there was a better answer, something that could make things easier for you now. But it is possible, I believe, to keep them alive in this new way with us as we continue to live. Eventually you might find that you can keep your mom or dad with you, too, and continue to take joy from their new presence in your ongoing life. 

It was difficult to impossible then, and it still can be now, but I say her name and reminisce about our shared memories. I can talk about “your Grammy” to my children and only choke up maybe half of the time. I’ve realized that not talking about her and not bringing her into my life didn’t take away my grief or make me feel better, and so I try to let her back in even if it hurts.

There are many times still when my throat feels like it will collapse and my eyes begin to burn with tears, but sometimes I can say her name without the crushing pain. I can talk about her and be with her, and bring her back joyfully into my life that way. In five months it will be December yet again–nativity set decision time. This might be the year I’m ready for it, but if not, I know I can wait and I think she’d be patient enough to wait for me, too. 

Eventually you may be able to let your mom or dad back into your daily life, and hopefully you will find some comfort in that. You can continue to be with them in that way, to keep them alive and let their name and their memories be a part of what you’re doing now. Eventually you will be able to open that door and let a little bit of joy back in.