Sunday, March 11, 2012


One of the hardest things about losing Jonah, has been the inevitability of forgetting him.  Not forgetting who he was, or my love for him, but forgetting the sweet details of his life.  I wish that I could somehow replicate him in my memory, and hold him there, perfectly, like a hologram.  Instead my memory is some sort of jumbled piecemeal culmination of glimpses, snapshots, and moments that seems more foggy than clear each day.  The pain of losing Jonah has come in two waves: first the agony of physical separation, and then the slow persistent ache of memories lost.

Each night before bed I go into Jonah's room and just think about him for a minute.  Sometimes I pick up his neatly folded blankets, and smell them.  I hold them to my cheeks and try to remember how it felt to hold my boy in my arms, and how he smelled after a day playing in the sun.  But the attempt is feeble.  And the truth is...I can't remember.  I find myself wondering why God would give me a brain that is so weak and so quick to forget?

The other day a memory came back to me.  It hit me as I was teaching my mom and tot art class.  I leaned over the back of one of my young students to grab a marker from the table.  Instantly, the sweet puppy dog smell of his little blond head brought Jonah to me.  It was as if my memory of his smell had been locked away, imprisoned, and this similar scent was the key.  I restrained myself from burrowing my nose into the little boy's hair, but I did linger for a moment and welcome the warm memory of Jonah into my heart.  It made me cry to remember him so well. 

I realized then, that my memory was not lost.  My view changed and I saw my mind as a beautifully designed safe, instead of a black hole.  

It is clear to me now that, if I had the ability to live my past through perfect memory I would never move forward.  I would feel content to remain in the past.  I think I understand now that forgetting, is not the disposal of memory.  I believe the beautiful moments I have with Jonah are with me, they are woven into me, and they are available to me when I need them.  If those moments were always at the forefront of my mind I would have no power or desire to progress.  I would be mesmerized by the beauty of another time and another place. 

I know that I have not forgotten Jonah, but rather that my sweet memories of him are being stored away, deep in my heart, for safekeeping. 

Wherever you are, whatever your circumstances may be, you are not forgotten. No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you may feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you. In fact, He loves you with an infinite love.  Dieter F. Uchtdorf


  1. Beautiful. Even with my children still with me, I feel the longing to perfectly recall the best moments of the past. I like to think that after this life we will be able to occasionally relive in a way our happiest moments from this life. Maybe it is part of all things being restored. But I appreciate your point about how having that ability now would be stifling and halt our progress. I'm pretty sure I've seen science fiction films about that sort of thing. (((hugs)))

  2. Julie- You are just incredible. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you RADIATE love for your sweet son Jonah. Your words are so precise in capturing something that seems impossible to capture. Thank you for sharing, truly.

  3. Your perspective is brilliant.

  4. No clear thought comes to mind except "thank you". You have touched my heart today.