A mother in one of my support groups asked, “when speaking of your child who has died, do you say, I love them, or I loved them?” A profound question but one that brought up the struggle of where your child is now.  They are not here, so past tense is appropriate, but they are here still in spirit so present tense feels more comforting even though it is more confusing.

This same question falls into the category of other questions that are difficult to answer.  How many children do you have when one has died? How old is your child?  Do you refer to their current age, if they were still alive, or do you refer to their forever age?  And the biggest question, am I still a mother.

In grief we learn that we must take our time and that every path is different. We know that what works for one, might not work for the other. Let’s take these lessons into account to answer the tough questions. I have found what works for me one day might not work for me another day.  It depends on my energy, where I am, and who I am speaking to. 

Here is what I believe. First, no question, I am his mother and will always be. No one takes that away; it came as my eternal right when I chose to give birth to him. And because I gave birth to him, he will always count as one of the children I have, no matter what his mortal status is!  The other answers require a bit more self-reflection.

How old is he? I find that in my grief community I am very comfortable to say Zane is forever 26. They get that. My answer changes with those I don’t know.  Currently my reply is, “I have a son who should be 30 but was killed when he was 26 and a daughter who just turned 27”.  This reply is to the point, the truth and tells the story of me as a mother.

Being comfortable saying that, I realize that I do keep Zane in the present tense.  I HAVE a son. I LOVE my son. Why would I put such an important person into a past tense? Because our society does. When our loved ones die, our society dictates that they are gone. They have left for a better place, to be with God, whatever your definition of ‘eternity’ is. They are in the past. But as a grieving mother we know better.

Every breath we take we are painfully aware that we cannot hold our child. But we also know, and we receive signs to assure us of this, that our children are still here. They are connected to us through a spiritual umbilical cord that death cannot sever. Being a mother of a child who is on the other side requires new learning of how to connect, how to care for them (through honoring them) but we learn, because we are their mothers.

My message to you is simply this. You are your child’s mother. That has not changed. That will never change. You are mother of their body and now their memory, their spirit, and their legacy. Your work is the same as that of mothers of earthly children.  We listen and watch for them, and we send our love to them through thoughts and wishes and actions. Your love for your child will always be present tense.