I am scared of forgetting my mom...

Next Monday, the 11th of August, marks two years without my mom.

I know everyone says grief doesn't get easier, but I still feel like it should. In some ways I feel like I should be over it now. In other ways, the grief is fresh. Almost like a wound that scabs over, and at times the scab comes off and the wound is brand new again.

A few months ago I was talking with a new friend about losing my mom. I was sharing my grief feelings from the past two years. She asked me what my mom was like or how I would describe her. And I didn't even know how to respond. Whether I was overwhelmed by emotions or I couldn't put her personality to words, I didn't have a good answer for her. And it freaked me out. If in just two years without her I lost my ability to describe her, what does that mean for the next 20 years?

As I've mentioned before on this blog, I miss my mom in the big life transition moments. The things that another person's mom would have celebrated or been apart of. Birthdays, new apartments, job changes, relationships... but I miss her just as much in the little things. I miss her when I run. I miss her when I talk to the people she loved. I miss her when I listen to certain songs. I miss her when I watch the show friends. I miss her when I make milkshakes and eat ice cream with fruit. I miss her when I'm singing in the car. I miss her at the beach and in the forest. I miss her when I take pictures of the sunset. I miss her when I watch the movie While You Were Sleeping.

I miss her when I think of what daily life would be like now if she were here. How would be current relationships be different if she were here. Would the decisions I make be different?

But even as I miss her, I know that I am only missing the version of her in my memories. Maybe what I miss about her will change the longer she is gone... and that scares me too. Right now I miss specific things about her, someday I might miss the idea of having a mom.

I am sitting in a coffee shop writing this right now. I only have 53 minutes left on my parking meter. I feel trapped in the dichotomy of blocking out my grief feelings (essentially blocking out memories of my mom) while also wanting to feel her near. I don't know whether to keep writing about her or to be done so my emotions will re-regulate.

I know that the way to not forget her is to talk about her, but talking about her hurts. I don't want to avoid the pain of missing her though. Because it does hurt, and my tendency is to avoid pain. It is such a mental battle for me to keep running when I am tired. In the same way, it is a battle for me to welcome missing my mom.

A while back a friend gifted me a book of liturgies on grief. One entry specifically addressed the loss of a parent. When I read it I feel so seen.

A LITURGY FOR...

The Loss of a Loving Parent

WHERE THERE ARE BLANK SPACES. INSERT THE WORD "MOTHER" OR "FATHER" AS APPROPRIATE.

O God, be near your children in our grief.

I have lived my life till now, O Lord,

with a sense there was a strong, buffering wall

between myself and the risks and uncertainties

of life-for there was always one who had

existed before me, who loved me from the

beginning of my life, who protected me, cared

for me, and watched over me; a ____

who raised and nurtured me, who did not

hesitate to sacrifice their own resources for

my good, or to deny their own desires

in order to advance my flourishing.

They were such a fount of grace to me, echoing

so poignantly your own tender, sacrificial love,

O Heavenly Father. And now they are gone.

This strange change has not yet fully settled in.

Perhaps it never will. There are moments

I think to call them, or to seek them out, only

to remember again that their earthly journey

has reached its end, at least for this age.

I must now navigate the rest of life without

them without their wisdom, encouragement,

sympathy, and aid, and without that ever-present

sense of stability and safety that their sheltering

love so long provided.

Meet me in this empty space, O Christ.

Be to me, O God, that which I cannot be

to myself. Be to me a shelter, guard, and guide.

Be my strong barricade against the gales of life.

Be my shepherd, my counselor, my provider.

Most of all, be to me as a parent, whose

affections for me are displayed in your kindness,

compassion, generosity, and delight.

Even as I grapple with this loss, O Lord,

I thank you for the life of my___.

who loved me well, who loved me even amidst

the many hardships and broken moments of

their own life. Let me take the best of what they

embodied, and learn to better practice those

qualities in my own relationships.

Let me honor my ___ ‘s many sacrifices for me, by availing myself ever more

intentionally of your mercies and grace,

that I might also become a better lover of your

people and your creation. Let even my grief

at this loss drive me over time to greater

dependence upon you, and to a richer under-

standing of the ways in which you are always

and forever my heavenly advocate and Father.

Meet me in my grief, O God, and let me learn

to lean all worry and weight of living upon you.

Amen

Every Moment Holy II: Volume II: Death, Grief, and Hope

Book by Douglas Kaine McKelvey

Not only does reading this put to words so many feelings of grief, but it also channels grief properly back to Jesus. I sometimes think about what this grief would be like without God. And as depressing as it is to not have a mom, I have such hope in Christ.

Before my mom passed away I got two new tattoos. My sisters, Faith & Emily, and I got matching tattoos as my mom, a butterfly. But I also got a tattoo that says Christ is my hope (in the handwriting of my mom, my dad, and my papa). I am thankful to have a permanent reminder of my mom and the hope that I experience in Christ.

In Christ, I am known. Christ meets my needs. In Christ, I have life. And my mom is experiencing even greater and grander life in the presence of our Savior.

1 Corinthians 15:20-22, 56-58

But Christ has indeed been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man. For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

1 Peter 1:3-6

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.