Most people shy away from the topic of death; it often brings discomfort and fear. Personally, I’ve always viewed death as a natural part of life. I appreciate life and want to live it to the fullest, but I’ve never feared the end. Death is a universal experience; we all share that fate, and I’ve accepted it. Growing up, I held a healthy perspective on mortality, believing that after our physical existence ends, our spirits transition to another realm—call it heaven or whatever you like. My faith teaches that death is not an ending but rather a passage to a new adventure. Thus, I’ve always regarded the passing of loved ones as a loss for those left behind, while simultaneously recognizing it as the commencement of a remarkable journey for the deceased.
However, the moment I became a mother, everything changed. The thought of dying and leaving my children without a mother became a source of deep anxiety. My kids are now 7, 12, and 16, and the very idea of my absence terrifies me. I have a strong bond with them; if I were to die, they would be heartbroken. While they would eventually adapt, their lives would be irrevocably altered, and I can’t bear the thought of them enduring that grief throughout their formative years. The idea of my absence looming over their milestones, emotional crises, and life events is something I find unbearable.
I often think about how my partner would manage their mourning while grappling with his own. I hope he would eventually find love again, yet the thought of another woman stepping into my role gives me anxiety. It’s a scenario I dread to contemplate.
Moreover, I cherish the experience of watching my children grow. I want to be present for their graduations, weddings, and the birth of their own children. I want to guide them through their queries about life, love, and even mundane responsibilities like bills and taxes. I want to be their mother, not simply a memory.
Reading about mothers who pass away while their children are young breaks my heart. I try to remain optimistic, but those stories haunt me. It’s not acceptable for mothers of young children to die, yet it happens. The thought of mothers who take their own lives is even more incomprehensible to me. I struggle to understand how anyone could leave their children in that manner; it’s a reality I can’t fathom.
This fear of dying now follows me everywhere. While I don’t let it dominate my life, it certainly influences my choices. For instance, I find skydiving thrilling, but I won’t consider it until my kids are adults. Each flight comes with the “What if I don’t make it home?” scenario. I constantly weigh risks, which often conflicts with my adventurous spirit.
I turn to prayer, the only recourse when facing fears beyond my control. I trust that whatever happens will ultimately lead to the best outcome. I wonder if I’ll ever regain a sense of peace regarding death, perhaps once my children are grown. But at this moment in my journey as a mother, that feels so distant.
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In summary, while I once viewed death without fear, the moment I became a parent, my perspective shifted dramatically. The thought of leaving my children motherless fills me with dread, shaping my decisions and influencing my daily life. The joy of motherhood is a privilege I am determined to cherish at all costs.