This year I forgot my mother’s birthday.
There was a time when my mother forgot my birthday. I never thought I would do the same. Still, my forgetfulness is for different reasons.
This year, I have been busy building community and living life. There are times I wish I could share my life with my mom and introduce her to my friends, but she would be happy to know I’m having fun and not living in pain anymore.
Don’t get me wrong, these days I may forget my grief, but I still allow myself to be sad and grieve. Time does heal, but grief never goes away.
For instance, this Mother’s Day I told those I love and am near to to not be alarmed if I needed to go off by myself to be alone. It may not make sense to those who can’t relate, but I still need to let myself be sad in order to heal. I will always love my mother, so I will never stop missing her. How I grieve will change, but my love never will.
An older woman in my church who has been isolated since the outbreak of COVID-19 recently likened this new quarantine life to the loss of a loved one. You can catch up with them over the phone or “see” them over Zoom, but the relationship is not the same. You miss being together. That is what grief is like — a loss of connection.
I wish I could call my mom and tell her about the changes in my life, but I know I am not alone in this new season.
“Be content with what you have, for he has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’ So we can confidently say,
‘The Lord is my helper;
I will not fear;
what can man do to me?'”
Like this pandemic, my grief will eventually come to an end and I will be reunited with my mother again. But more importantly, I look forward to seeing my Savior face to face. That is a hope I will never forget.