Parents may never be able to stop grieving the loss of a child as they cannot let go of the need for the child’s physical presence
RECENTLY in Sydney, staying at the Ritz Carlton, on a dark, rainy Sunday afternoon, I watched a TV interview of the famous Chilean writer, Isabel Allende, who had just released her new book, Paula. The book is in the form of a letter to her daughter, Paula, who died at the age of 22 due to a blood disorder, after being in coma for a year.
The book addresses the torturous time she suffered while her daughter was comatose, and also in part her autobiography portraying life in exile following the 1973 military coup against Salvador Allende.
In the interview, Isabel said, “We are all prepared and courageous enough to accept the loss of parents and spouses but never of offsprings.” She went on to say that she is not the same woman anymore.
Her remarks hit me deeply and I decided to write this tribute to a mother I know, who also recently lost her daughter in the prime of her life.
She was the third of four daughters the Siddiqis were blessed with. She was extremely intelligent and always scored good grades at school, college and then the university. After taking a merit position in her Master’s exam from the Quaid-i-Azam University, at the persuasion of her father she appeared for the CSS examination. She qualified with flying colours and her first posting was a deputation assignment with the Export Promotion Agency. She participated as a member and later as leader of several export delegations to various countries. I had the first-hand opportunity to watch her fine negotiating skills at a Hong Kong leather trade fair. She acquired contracts for several delegates.
For a few months, she remained under the treatment of a gynaecologist, who prescribed medicines which were taken without any periodic test or supervision. Then, all of sudden, one fine evening, while having tea with her mother and elder sister, her breathing got laborious and she was taken to a hospital and admitted in the ICU. Several tests revealed that her blood sugar had touched precarious levels. Insulin was immediately administered but by this time, she had lost touch with her surroundings. The next morning she passed away. The death certificate stated cardiac arrest as the cause of death, a standard death certificate issued by all our hospitals when doctors are negligent or incapable of diagnosis.
The life of a healthy 30-year-old was lost in less than 48 hours. The family thought of suing the gynaecologist and the hospital, but the heavy grief of irreparable loss prevailed.
A week before her death, she was invited to appear in a test at the ministry in Islamabad for a possible selection as trade commissioner. The results were announced after her death and she had qualified in the examination!
The mother, having lost her husband only a couple of years ago, stood devastated with the loss of her dearest daughter. I am sure that within herself she must have been at war. Death is awesome in its finality, more so when a young soul embraces it. The death of a child is such a reversal of the natural order of things that some societies actually advise parents against attending their children’s funeral. In China, a popular saying is that the person with white hair should not bid farewell to the person with black hair.
Since the time of her daughter’s death, the mother has sought refuge in the Holy Quran. She begins recitation early in the morning and continues till late hours of the night. She converses no end about the fine qualities of her late daughter. No argument or logic soothes her pain or grief. Any attempt to divert her attention evokes an angry response from the mother.
A parent may never be able to stop grieving the loss of a child. The grieving process allows survivors to let go the dead and gradually recover. But parents cannot let go of the need for the physical presence of the child and usually fail to separate this from the happy memories of when the child was alive. They often express a wish to join the dead. The inability to sleep and loss of appetite are just a few of the after-effects. The mother suffered from all the above syndromes.
Between the time I started writing this tribute in Sydney and finishing it in Karachi, the grief-stricken mother succumbed to her grief. She suffered a heart attack and died — less than a year after her daughter’s death. We hope she has joined her daughter and is now at peace.
