Losing Your Parents in an Instant: Facing the Unimaginable

Grief is something that everyone goes through in their own way, but losing both parents in less than 48 hours is surreal. It's a wave of emotions that overwhelms everything—a mixture of shock, disbelief, sadness, and sometimes even a little guilt. I want to share what I've just experienced and felt about this unique ordeal.

Emotions come without warning. When my father left, I felt a mixture of intense sadness and regret. Regrets for not having been more present, for not having been able to say goodbye even though I knew his time was limited. I tried to understand what had just happened, to get used to the idea that he was no longer there, even though the years had separated us. But before I could even really process this loss, I had to face a new heartbreak with the death of my mother.

I remember that moment very clearly: I was at work, still numb from the pain of losing my father, trying as best I could to find some semblance of normalcy to move forward in my daily life despite the pain. And then the phone rang. Hearing my sister's voice, I knew something was wrong. When she told me the news, it was as if time stopped. My body froze, my breath hitched, and for a few seconds, everything around me seemed unreal. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I was like frozen. At first, I just didn't believe it. Two losses so close together, it's so unreal. I kept asking myself: “Why? Why now? Why them? Why is this happening to us? What did we do to deserve this?”. But these questions remain unanswered and just leave a huge void.

So first there was a tsunami of emotions that hit me hard. Disbelief, as if my mind refused to accept this reality. Then sadness, a sadness so deep that it overwhelmed me instantly. At the same time, a dull anger rose inside me: how could life be so cruel, so unfair? But more than anything, there was this feeling of immense emptiness, a chasm that opened up inside me, sucking me in. I had lost both my parents, and I found myself alone facing this unbearable reality.

I had to leave work immediately, unable to function normally. As I walked through the hallways, everything seemed blurry, as if I was disconnected from reality. Every step seemed unreal, every breath labored. The shock was so violent that I didn't know what to think or what to do. There was just this pain, raw and overwhelming, that left no room for anything else.

There was also this strange feeling of emptiness, a deafening silence in my head. As if everything had stopped. I felt a mixture of helplessness and fear—fear of what would come next, fear of never finding some form of balance again. And in the middle of it all, an immense guilt: Have I done enough for them? Have I said everything I wanted to say? These questions kept running through my mind.

Sometimes it's a dull pain that blocks everything. You wake up at night with this oppressive feeling, as if an enormous weight were crushing your chest. Then there's anger, an irrational anger that you can't control. Against life, against destiny, against yourself for everything you could have done differently. All this mixes together in a confusion that makes every moment heavy and difficult.

And then there are those moments of total dejection. An immense fatigue, as if every cell in the body is exhausted by the weight of grief. Some days, getting out of bed seems a victory in itself. Other days, you feel a wave of sadness so intense that it overwhelms everything. Memories come flooding back—a laugh, a sentence, a gesture—and the loss becomes almost unbearable.

Waking up is hard. After a night of sleep or so-so, my brain goes to rest, waking up brings reality back in my face. It was all true, it wasn't a nightmare, they are well and truly gone.

Losing both parents at once also means having a lot of things to manage in addition to the pain. Two funerals to organize, administrative paperwork to sort and manage, inheritances... And all this while trying to pay tribute to them properly. We feel drained, but we want to do well. But in the middle of all that, we often felt lost, unable to concentrate, as if our minds were numbed by the shock.

So yes, we always say that in these moments, you shouldn't stay alone. Family, friends, or even a professional can really help. I never learned to ask for help, and on the contrary, I felt the need to isolate myself more when I returned home, 6,000 kilometers from my family. Talking, even awkwardly, brought me back to this reality each time, to always answer the same questions, which plunge you back into the heart of your drama. And then even surrounded, there is this deep solitude, this feeling that no one can really understand the magnitude of what I am going through...

Today, it’s still fresh. The pain is ever-present, and it’s hard to think about anything but their absence. Every moment seems imbued with their memory—their voices, their smiles, their gestures. Sometimes, I feel a void so great that it seems to swallow everything around me. And then, there’s the fear—the fear of forgetting them, the fear of not knowing how to move forward without them. I’m still in the midst of mourning, and every day is a struggle to move forward a little more. But what I do know is that their presence remains engraved in me. They are there, in my memories, and that’s what gives me a little courage to face this immense void.