I haven't been to church since before Lockdown. I had already backed off a bit from church because I was so often ill while recovering after a health crisis in 2018. Part of that is because my health issues include respiratory difficulties and that means lots of harsh, loud coughing. I just felt I was a distraction and/or disturbance in church. I also have not been well enough to take on big cooking projects, which was something I previously enjoyed doing for my son's kid's kid's activities and then his youth group. Sadly, I only got to do that twice for his youth group before I became so ill.

Then, just as I was feeling recovered and well enough to start back to church, covid changed the world. My health issues are such that, should I contract covid it would almost certainly kill me.

Of course, there's another reason I haven't been particularly motivated to get back to church. I nearly died in 2018. I was rushed to the emergency room and hospitalized on oxygen. I spent a week in the hospital in 2018. My son attended many youth group meetings when I was ill, including to meetings while I was in the hospital. He was very concerned for me and he shared that at church; they were very supportive of him.

However… No one from church called me at home or came by to check on me. I just dropped out of Sunday school and church and youth group activities… and nothing. My son told them how sick I was all the time… and nothing. He told them how his father was always getting fast food or pizza because I was too sick to cook… nothing. My son told them I was rushed to the emergency room and almost died, that I was on oxygen and special breathing treatments ever four hours in the hospital… nothing. He told them I'd had to have 5 liters of blood to replace missing blood volume, and they didn't know why I was missing blood volume… but, nothing. He told them my iron was below 4 and that I had to have five infusions… but, nothing. No one visited. No one called. Ten years in that church and it was as if I never existed in their memories. One person sent me a get well card from the pastor's office – with her own signature on it all alone; the pastor and the rest of the office staff couldn't be bothered to add their signatures.

I've tried not to be. I've not let on to my son that I am. But, I find I am deeply hurt to have just been dropped from their memories so completely.

That's not just quiet quitting. It feels like just being thrown away.