This year didn’t start out with a lot of hope. I had lost my dad in December 2019, and an uncle and a dear pet last May.
And then, in January, I lost my mom.
She was in a nursing home and declining sharply. Because of the pandemic, I couldn’t visit her in person. I had wanted the pandemic to end so I could hug her and hold her closely. We had a FaceTime visit on Christmas, and I wondered if that would be the last time I saw her.
COVID had invaded the facility.
The day after Christmas, Mom became ill but tested negative. On New Year’s Eve, she tested positive and was moved into the COVID unit. Within days, the disease had attacked almost two-thirds of the residents, as well as a good portion of the staff. Mom had her 90th birthday but then took a turn for the worse. She slipped away without my ever seeing her again.
Mom was a very spiritual person with a strong faith. She said we would be together after we left the earth. She told me to be happy, not sad, when she died. I have not managed that yet—but I hope to.
Everyone who knew her knew how much love and joy she radiated. I’m sure that, when she went on to the next life, she was greeted that same love and joy. Right now, my grief is great, but I hold on to the hope that I will receive that same warm welcome when it’s my turn—as will all of us.