Thirty years ago I lost my mother to lung and bone cancer. She was 52 and I was 19. Five years after that my father died after a lengthy illness when I was 24, and then POOF! There I was, an orphan, or some kind of variation thereof. I was not alone per se; I have two older siblings, but they had their own issues to contend with and I had to learn how to grieve and grow on my own. It has been an interesting experience and  I can safely say that I survived and thrived, but the journey has not been easy.

Several months ago - I think it was in May - I joined a motherless daughters group online at a fairly popular site. I had gone there not to grieve with them,  since much of my grief work had been done, but to help others understand the new path they would be taking. I knew that I could offer a window into just what it is like to go through 30 years of your life alone and without your parents by your side; to experience all the myriad joyful milestones in your life alone, as well as deal with the painful things we all inevitably experience without their counsel and support. Ironically, it would turn out that the group would help me heal those areas that still remained raw but hidden within myself. It has been a gift and a blessing for me in ways I never imagined.

At the time I joined the group the 30th anniversary of Mom's death was fast approaching. Additionally, the anniversary date was falling on an especially busy time for me at work --Commencement week and day - and I am the person in charge of the logistics for that event. I am normally tense during that time of year given that there is so much to do, but on that day I was more nervous because of its obvious symbolism: I had lived without my mother for more years than I had lived with her. No one knew what I was thinking about beyond the scope of work, and I sailed through the day with a smile and loving moments of reflection for the mother I so missed. Somehow I had survived through 30 years of turmoil and pain, and managed to do well for myself, in spite of it all. Another year had passed and I would continue to go onwards and grow....

30 years...Wow. So much has happened in those ensuing years since Mom and dad's deaths (his took place in 1980, or 5 years after she died in 1975); I have grown, matured and  have become successful in life, even though I never managed to work in my original field of choice, which was painting and drawing. I married twice, divorced once and found my second husband, Dream, online 5 1/2 years ago. I couldn't be happier. I've won some, and lost much at times, including my first and only pregnancy with my first husband ; a painful experience that revealed my serious infertility issues and  for which I embarked upon a fruitless 2 year medical journey that still did not give me the child I longed for. I learned how to allow myself to be a childless woman and mother outsiders to fill that gap within.

Virtually every single milestone event in my life I ostensibly went through alone, even though I had my older siblings, assorted  aunts, uncles and cousins with me. The only event a parent attended, which was my father, was my college graduation in 1977. All else I celebrated without them. I wonder how I got through those days at times without completely giving in to the grief I still felt, but I did and I know they would have been proud.

It isn't easy at times. There are times when I really need to speak to both of them and hear their answers in return, rather than imagining their responses. And yet, I learned how to wind my way through the assorted difficulties in life with grace and ease.

All the tools one needs to grow from DO rest within ourselves. Sometimes it takes an especially tragic moment, or a few of them, to realize that you CAN heal; you CAN grow and you CAN survive and thrive, if only you look within.

And so I have, and it is lovely.