My Grief Is a Reminder of My Love

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.