February 2023

Happy Thanaversary to me… kind of?

Fishing with Mom

I didn’t know what this meant either until I did a quick internet search. This is a term that clinical psychologist Dr. Ryan Howes coined in reference to when a child reaches the age that their parent was when they passed away. However, I’m not 55, which is how old my Mom was when she finally lost her 17 year battle with cancer. It started as breast cancer, but it was eventually a combination of breast, bone, and lung cancer that took her. Even though I’m not 55, my mom was 38 when she was initially diagnosed. This is why my birthday in December 2022 was so significant. I turned 39 years old on the 12th. I am now older than my Mom was when she received that troubling news that would forever alter the course of her life. I am cancer free at 39. This is a feeling that my Mom never had. While I don’t really believe in jinxes, feel free to knock on wood on this one for me.

To go back and give some context on the Thanaversary, here is how Dr. Howes originally came up with the term.

“In Greek mythology, Thanatos was the personification of death.

Psychology, philosophy medicine, and other disciplines call their study of death, dying, grief, and sociological attitudes toward death, ‘thantology’.

So thanatos fits, some sort of –versary makes sense, therefore I present: ‘Thanaversary’. It's a little dark, but I think it represents both the bitter and sweet of a day like this.”

For so long, when anyone asked about my Mom I told the story of how she was diagnosed at 38, again at 45, and ultimately at 53. When I was younger that seemed like a long way away for me. Now being so close to turning 40 and feeling like I’ve barely even started, it hits differently.

Yia Yia, Gramps, and Mom (left), Dad Josh, Joanna, and I (right)

Trying to understand how my Mom must have felt receiving that news at 38 is impossible to swallow. I was 10, my sister Joanna, was 8, and my brother Gunnar was just 4 years old. Personally, I started my parenthood journey later than her, but I still can’t imagine facing the uncertainty of my morality with a 3 year old, 18 month old, and 3 month old twins. It literally turns my stomach.

Being a parent is a big, big challenge, maybe the toughest I’ve ever taken on… but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Being here everyday with my wife and kids is the most important part of my journey. Even if that means there are lots of tough days and big emotions. If my health took that from me, it would be heartbreaking.

I’m aware that each milestone brings on an element of grief. Once when I was in therapy I was told that a grief cycle was much like an upward coil. The highs get a little higher and the lows get a little less low. I’ve also heard that grieving someone you love isn’t something you just ‘get over’. I agree with both. My mom’s passing has had a profound impact on my life. Each stage of life, each challenge is a constant reflection in that grief.

Every time that we’ve welcomed a child into our family, every time I’ve struggled as a husband and a father, I’ve reached for the phone to call my Mom. Every time. And every time I have to re-realize that I can’t call her. I feel that grief. Every time I want to ask her for advice or ask what I was like at insert age here, I feel that grief. Every time I want to call her and ask her to take one (or two) of these beautiful but crazy little people so Shelbs and I can reboot, I feel that grief. Honestly, grief is something I’ve learned to live with. It feels a lot like regret. A ‘what if’ type of feeling.

Needless to say, this past birthday spawned so many thoughts. Most of them are grateful. I’m so grateful that I’m healthy. I’m grateful that my Mom was so strong through the 17 years she lived as a survivor. I’m grateful that I live in a place that embraces healthy lifestyles. That my parents shared the passion of sports and being outside. It helps that I grew up in SoCal, but we still spent most weekends outside, playing sports or at the beach. Tough childhood… I know! What’s really incredible is how much this colors my desire to raise our children outside playing as much as possible. Do you remember those days? Not a care in the world!

I miss my Mom but I am so HAPPY she was my Mom. I’m eternally grateful for everything she taught me in the first 10 years of my life, BUT maybe more grateful for everything she taught me in those last 17 years of her life.

So Happy Thanaversary to me… kind of.