When you’re sick, you want your Mom. I know I do. Never mind that I’m in my forties, left home at 18, live hours away, and have a family of my own. There’s something about a mother’s presence that puts your soul at ease. I know that if she could have been here with me, she would have. While I was sick, I imagined her calling and texting me to make sure I was drinking enough water (using her straw trick), staying in touch with my doctor, and offering prayers and encouragement.
As desperately as I wanted my Mom when I was sick, I know that she also wanted her Mom when she was sick, too. This fact breaks my heart. Thinking of her in the hospital, all alone…I’ll never get over it. Never.
My beloved grandmother (her mother) passed away while I was sick. I didn’t get to go to the funeral. Another heartbreak and once again I feel like there’s so little closure and there’s barely been a moment to grieve.
My body is healing now. I try to cheer myself up thinking about them reunited, a mother and her daughter. It makes me cry…both happy and sad tears. The two most important women in my life are gone, but together.
I don’t know exactly how this heaven thing works which probably sounds strange coming from a Christian, but I have faith that God makes things right…somehow…as only He can.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere is a personal grief diary as I process the loss of my Mother to COVID-19.
Empty Chairs, Everywhere 