A few days after my mom died in 2003, my back went out. I was a wreck and had a hard time moving. I didnâ€™t understand it as Iâ€™ve always been quite healthy and strong and until that point had never had any back problems.
I donâ€™t remember who I went to for treatment, but I did as Iâ€™m not one to suffer pain. Who ever it was said something about a persons back and support and that I might want to look for a connection between my back hurting and the death of my mom.
Mumbo jumbo I thought. Exceptâ€¦ it made total sense.
Even though my mom and I had our issues â€” mom is mom, and no matter the relationship a parent is actually the one who supports a child.Â It doesnâ€™t matter if the child thinks they do it well or not.
Most of my friends know that my father and I had a difficult relationship. His death the other day, while expected, in a strange way has freed his kids, especially my brother Art. Many of you know that deep down inside, I wasnâ€™t sure this particular Superman would actually die. He has made come back after come back, and surprised us all.
But, apparently everybody does die. The heart of this macho athlete, marine, and coach finally just stopped beating.
Now, while I am far away from the actual action of the Hudson household â€” our phone is ringing and because I do have a lot of friends, Iâ€™m getting notes of condolences.
But, because of the internet highway and social media, Iâ€™m also able to see how others are grieving my father, and I find it quite strange. (I hope to write about this topic soon.)
I do feel my grief is more like relief. I think I am standing well enough with this. Strangely, I find more than not, it is me providing comfort to others. More than once Iâ€™ve heard myself tell a stranger â€œSorry for your loss.â€
Both my brothers seem to be dealing with the aftermath of dads death the same way I think I am.
It is what it is.
So, imagine my surprise when I reached for a glass of water this morning, and my back went out.