The subtle threads of family relationships often become more apparent as a result of loss. In Ruby’s case, her father’s death not only brought grief but also revealed the profound impact it had on her mother’s behavior and emotional state. As a widow, her mother found solace in the perceived presence of her late husband, a coping mechanism that became a point of confusion and even fear for her young granddaughter, Cindy. This situation highlights the complexity of grief and how it can travel through generations and affect each family member differently.
Ruby, who is the bridge between mother and daughter, finds herself in a difficult position. She needs to address her daughter’s fears and anxieties while being sensitive to her mother’s grief. This dual responsibility forces Ruby to carefully navigate her family’s emotional landscape to ensure that Cindy feels safe and understood and that her mother receives the support she needs to heal.
Ruby believes that her grandmother’s “boyfriend” is someone she knows when Cindy, Ruby’s daughter, says that her grandmother is accompanied all the time. Cindy then reveals that Ruby’s father, William, is the exact name of a “friend” who died some time ago.
Being an only child, my family has always been close-knit. I grew up very close to my parents. They attended every parent-teacher conference at my school and every field hockey game I played. And when I started college, it didn’t end there. They stopped by every third week and mom always brought food. But everything changed with the death of my father.
Now I have a husband and a child, Cindy, who is six years old. My mother changed with my father’s death. She used to be a “hippie” mother who painted practically everything in sight and wore dungarees. I appreciated that. I loved the atmosphere that accompanied it. But something changed the day we buried my father. This spirit faded, becoming a shadow of its former self.
My mother now wishes to spend more time at home with us. She especially enjoys spending time and developing a bond with Cindy. Cindy and I take turns dropping her off at Mom’s or picking her up and dropping her off after their adventures.
However, my daughter started crying all the time and avoiding Grandma whenever my mom dropped Cindy off. Mom then explained to me what they did. I’m not trying to come up with some elaborate theories about what happens when my mother and I are alone because I love her. But I have to say that I am concerned.
I recently decided to go over everything with Cindy. Baking is our favorite bonding pastime. She enjoys mixing the mixture and adding the ingredients, then licking off a spoonful of the remaining batter.
“Honey,” I commented as I put the flour in a bowl and gave it to Cindy to stir. “I have a question for you.
She replied, “Yes, Mom?”
“Why do you cry when grandma comes home? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“That’s three questions,” Cindy commented sarcastically.
“Tell me, love,” I murmured, smiling a little.
Cindy took a deep breath and exhaled.
It’s because of grandma’s friend. He is always present.”
“What friend?” he asked. “She never does anything with you herself. Besides, she and her companion Beth accompanied you to knitting class.”
Cindy smiled at the thought.
“But if Grandma is always alone, why does she ask me to say hello to William?”
I whispered, “William?”
Grandma always advises to offer William something before we eat it.
But I never see him. William, who is that?
My heart almost jumped out of my chest as I turned pale.
My father’s name was William.
“Is William a scary man?” Cindy asked, not understanding my silence out of fear.
It was confusion, not fear.
“No, Grandma won’t be friends with the bad guys,” I said. “Come on, let’s make some cookies and eat them!”
The next day, I left my husband Dean, and Cindy at home because they had organized a lavish movie marathon and I was told to prepare all the food before I left.
I then proceeded to my mother’s residence.
I begged her to have a serious talk and told her what Cindy and I had talked about when I got there.
My mother’s eyes began to water as her face contorted.
“Oh, Ruby,” she said. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect it to freak her out.”
“Frightened?” I asked. “Frightened by what?”
Mom murmured, “Listen, my love,” and reached across the couch to take my hand.
She remarked, “I still feel your father.” And even though I know it’s unhealthy, I still do it. And I still talk to him sometimes.”
My mother broke my heart. It was hard for me to accept my father’s death. However, I didn’t realize how deeply rooted her pain was.
“I still talk to him, Ru,” Mom continued. “It started when I was alone and eventually evolved into a coping strategy. Cindy heard me mention it a few times. Just a gentle reminder that Grandpa was still alive.”
“I understand, Mom. I accept that this is how you handle the loss of your father.”
But Cindy doesn’t see it that way.”
We sat and talked about my father for several hours on the sofa.
“Come on,” Mom finally said. “I have donuts.
I told Mom she had to sit down and explain to Cindy over coffee and pastries.
I said, “Let him hear it from you.”
Mom nodded. She realized that while it was an act of kindness on her part—a coping mechanism of sorts—it wasn’t a good idea for Cindy to believe she had an invisible friend.
Mom said, ‘I’m so sorry. “I didn’t mean anything.
“I’m aware,” I replied. “You have my point. Time for you to see a psychologist?”
“Oh, Ruby,” Mom commented. “Are we there yet?”
Yes, I answered. “There’s nothing wrong with talking to Dad, but it’s a fact that Cindy isn’t sure about spending time with you because of the William thing.
“Okay,” Mom replied. “I’ll do it.”
In recent months, Mom has been regularly attending therapy. She resumed painting because it lifted her spirits.
These days she and Cindy are working on it together.
I thought my child would understand, but she didn’t.
She loved having her grandmother around once more. And Mom didn’t talk to Dad in front of us anymore, if at all.
We all seemed headed for recovery.
Here’s another story for you: You may turn to your loved one one day and, like Hugo, find yourself in an empty space of regret. His late grandmother Rosemary was a street sweeper and he was constantly ashamed of her. He found her guilty when, after she left, he was left with only an urn of ashes, which shattered on the ground.
This moving story highlights the deep emotional currents that run through families, especially after a loss. Ruby’s discovery of her mother’s method of coping with grief – by talking to her late husband as if he were still present – sheds light on the different ways people deal with their pain. It also highlights the complexities that arise when these private rituals intersect with the understanding of younger family members like Cindy who may not understand the concept of such emotional coping mechanisms.
Ruby’s intervention, which suggested therapy for her mother, was not only aimed at helping her mother navigate her grief more healthily but also sought to protect Cindy from confusion and fear. It was a compassionate step toward healing not just for her mother, but for the entire family. Therapy gave her mother a space to express and process her feelings in a way that didn’t inadvertently upset Cindy.
The resolution of the story, with Grandma continuing to paint and spending quality time with Cindy, is a testament to the healing power of open communication and therapy. Reflecting on the gradual journey back to joy and normalcy shows that while the absence of a loved one leaves a void, it doesn’t have to stop the remaining family members from moving forward.
This narrative serves as a reminder of the invisible burdens of grief and the importance of seeking support. It also celebrates the resilience of the human spirit and the ability of individuals and families to adapt and find solace in each other and in creative expression. It teaches us that while we may never stop missing those we have lost, we can find ways to honor their memory and maintain our connection with the living. In doing so, we weave a tapestry of support and understanding that holds us together even in the most difficult times.