A mother sits at the window, sipping tea, and contemplating her younger daughter’s upcoming birthday near the beginning of April.
Springtime—a time of renewal, a time of perennial rebirth.
She knows this should be a joyous time.
But instead there is a pang of fear in this mother’s heart.
So here this mother sits with a feeling that a part of her is missing…and along with this feeling is the fear that she won’t be happy without her beloved Marianne.
And she knows she has an irrational fear that she will lose her younger daughter too…simply because her younger daughter will be the “death age”.
So she holds on tight…at least for now.
It is common to have a fear associated with the age of someone’s death.
I vividly recall the fear I felt in the years leading up to the date of when I would turn the age that Cindy was upon her death…45—although she disappeared when she was 44, shortly after her bound body was found beside an abandoned house and before we cremated and buried her, my family and I stood in a circle around her closed coffin and celebrated her 45th birthday. I was 27 then.
Years later, as I approached the age of 45, I had an irrational fear and a foreboding of death. I did not want to turn 45! –I thought something might happen to me at that age!
I know, it wasn’t rational…but I couldn’t help myself.
And because of embarrassment over the irrationality, I never told a soul until after I turned 45 and had sailed through that year, accomplishing many milestones with delight. —By then the fear had dissipated so I told my sister Marlene…who was surprised but supportive.
Today I can shake my head and chuckle over my fear and my irrational behavior at that time. I certainly know what it’s like to have such a fear…and it isn’t at all funny when you are experiencing it!
Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James