Sometimes I forget that I’m still grieving.
As I write these words, I hate my use of the word “still.” Of course, I’m “still” grieving. I always will be. You don’t simply stop grieving the loss of your mom one day. It goes on and on.
Anyway, sometimes I forget.
I wake up feeling sad for no reason.
I do something that triggers me unexpectedly.
I wonder what’s wrong with me.
I tell myself to get it together, to be more productive.
I spend the day trying to identify what I’m feeling, trying to pinpoint the cause of it.
And then suddenly, I remember.
There is a reason for my sadness.
It becomes obvious why something would trigger me.
I realize there’s nothing wrong with me.
There’s no need to always be busy in order to feel productive.
I am grieving.
This is my grief reminding me that it’s still here.
It’s okay to slow down.
It’s okay to give myself a break.
It’s okay to avoid doing things that trigger me.
It’s okay to be sad for “no reason.”
On those days when I suddenly remember not to forget, I do little things to comfort my soul, things my mom would tell me to do — like make a cup of tea.
And then I just sit with my grief for a little while, like it’s an old friend who dropped by without giving prior notice.
Because my grief, although terribly uncomfortable, is also a reminder of my love.
And sometimes, it’s nice to just remember.