By Kathleen Guthrie Woods
Before I even get into this post, I need to alter my title. It should read “The Death of a Friend (Who Happened to be Childfree).” Okay, that’s better.
Earlier this year, a friend of 20-plus years lost her battle with cancer. Mercifully, her fight wasn’t prolonged and the end came quickly and with little pain and suffering. My grief, on the other hand, was debilitating. I slept at odd hours, I burst into tears at the grocery store (spotted something I knew she liked, realized she’d never enjoy it again), I read something that made me think of her, went to call her, and remembered all over again that she’s gone.
As I told friends who are moms about her passing, what surprised me the most was how often the first question was “Did she have kids?”, to which I answered “No,” to which the response was “That’s good.” This exchange always left me feeling yucky; did this mean that her death and my loss had less of an impact because she wasn’t a mom? I get that it’s good that young children were not left motherless, but I can’t quite agree that it’s good she never had any, yet I know she didn’t feel that her life was lacking in any way. She had an extraordinary life—full of travels and adventures and loving friends—one that wouldn’t have been possible if she’d filled her days with parenting duties.
I wallowed in my grief, and I wallowed in the anticipation of what I perceived will be my own inevitably lonely passing. But before I could start hating all reproducers for their insensitivity, I got a call from another long-time friend, a stay-at-home mom. Even though she had only met the other woman a few times, she cried with me over my loss. She listened to my memories, she shared a few insights, and before long she had me laughing so hard that I was crying again.
In earlier posts I’ve complained about the comments made after tragedies in which children are lost, such as “Only a parent can understand.” I’ve argued that compassion isn’t exclusive to people who happen to be parents. So this experience was my lesson in reverse. In my vulnerable state, I so easily could have locked myself away with my childfree friends. Many friends offered their condolences, yet the one person who really understood, who was able to reach my heart and truly comfort me, is firmly established in the mommy club. Compassion isn’t exclusive to anyone, it’s a human trait. And aren’t we lucky that, when we really need it, it comes to us from many different sources.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with being childfree.
What a lovely friend. Both of them. I am so very sorry for your loss, and glad you heard from such a compassionate friend.
I am also very sorry for your loss, but very glad that you had a friend who was compassionate to talk to you. Pamela also announced, on her recent post, the passing of Melissa (from the MLO Knitting blog) this month. I read her husband’s last post on that blog, and was in tears last night.
I wanted to comment on the first responses you received from some of your friends, because I have had this type of encounter with two of my mom friends that left me feeling angry and raw, and to me, at least, emphasized why I don’t buy the argument that parenting transforms you into a more loving/giving human being, that is more concerned about humanity, etc., which is often attributed to motherhood. No. You love and you care incredibly for your own child. Most mothers do not become Mother Teresa to others after giving birth. This is exclusive to their own child, and thank goodness this biological bond is almost always the case, otherwise few would probably survive past infancy. This love is followed by an incredible fear of what would happen to their own child if they or their spouse passed away, a real understandable anxiety. So I have heard over and over again, the same sort of insensitive comments towards people who are not parents. Comments that come across as though you are less worth thinking about because there is no child that is totally dependent on you. I get it hat kids are vulnerable, and I understand that concern, but the resulting attitude irks me in a very wrong way.
Dear Kathleen – I am sorry for losing a friend.
A friend of mine died 4 years ago.
I stopped counted how many times did I hear “Did she have kids?”, and I responded “No” and then heard – the same as you “That’s good.”
Their comments hurt me so much. After a while I stopped telling people about my Maria.
I am so sorry for your loss. It shouldn’t matter if the person had a child or not.
I am so sorry you lost a friend. I’ve heard these comments before, and I hate them. I hate them for their insensitivity. But I guess it is natural for a parent to immediately think about how their death would affect their children. In the same way that if I think about dying, I worry about how it would affect my husband, and my aging mother and my aging in-laws, and my nieces and nephews, and my sponsored child (and her family and village) in Malawi. So I guess I also hate these comments for having a tiny bit of truth. That at least there aren’t children left grieving as much as all her other loved friends and family. But that doesn’t make one death less than another. And sadly, those comments imply exactly that.
I’m glad though that you had a friend who understood. Your experience is similar to mine, in that I have found mothers to be both sensitive, and insensitive. It’s all about the personality, rather than the parental status. If only we could be seen that way too.
Quel belle réflexion! Merci…
Sorry about your loss. I also read about it in Pamela’s blog, though unfortunately I don’t know her.
I’m glad you’ve found someone to comfort you. LOVE your last paragraph especially.
I am so sorry for your loss *big hugs 🙂
Hi Kathleen: I was just introduced to your blog through my friend Eleanore’s blog The Spinsterlicious Life. I wanted to comment on this post because I experienced a similar loss back in 2007 ( a woman I had known since high school lost a valiant, multi-year battle with breast cancer), and found that I myself played into this same damaging (not the word I really wanted to use) mentality. Because my friend had two young sons and a husband, I found myself thinking that it should have been me, single and childfree, who should have met with this fate and not my friend. It’s a form of survivor’s guilt that I believe many of us suffer–mostly in silence. Perhaps this is not as raw and debilitating as the guilt experienced by those who survive war, terrorist attacks, etc., but it is very real and I thank you for raising the issue. I don’t believe mothers intend to be hurtful when they make these sorts of comments, but it is insensitive and hurtful all the same. Everyone’s life has value, whether parenting or child-free.
Kathleen, I am sorry about your friend. The death of someone so young, whether or not she had kids, is never “good.” :p I wish people would think a little more before they speak.