Brain Training
In the first months after Michael passed away, I would try to go about my normal life and do my normal life things like go to Target or the grocery store. I learned very quickly, that if I went in there on "auto-pilot" I would end up with things in my cart like men's deodorant or body wash that I didn't need anymore. When I'd realize it was a mix of feeling upset, crazy, and a little mad at myself. Like, "duh, Beth, figure it out". After a few such trips to the store, I began the process I now think of as "re-training my brain".
Instead of wandering through a store, I started walking through stores purposefully. I remember very vividly being at Target one day before a trip to Florida. I kept saying things to myself (not out loud) like , boys flips flops yes, girls flips flops yes, women's flip flops yes, men's flips flops no we don't need those. I would do the same thing at the grocery store, because there were several foods that only he ate, and I would stock up on them when they were on sale. As I write this, I realize I don't even look in certain areas of the store anymore. My plan has apparently worked. It's not that I don't want to remember him, but it is upsetting (and makes a person feel a little crazy) to get to the cash register with pepsi and sweet tea when no one in the house drinks those things anymore.
Fast forward to this year on the 4th of July, I took the children to our local 4th of July parade and arts festival. We had a really nice day. The parade was long and hot but interesting and very patriotic. I like instilling that patriotic spirit in my kids. They stood when the flag went past, and took part in a standing ovation as the veterans went by in a caravan. We saw Southern Belle's, enjoyed some silly guys dancing with lawn chairs, and lots of cool cars. Mostly we enjoyed some nice family time together. After the parade, we perused the arts booths and headed over for some "fair food" for lunch. Due to the heat, we went to eat in the shade and listen to a band that was performing. While we were eating a man walked by that looked a lot like a guy that used to work for Michael. And not just work for him. Michael loved this guy. They played fantasy football, and basketball, they hung out and really seemed to "get " each other. Sometimes we had them over to cookout. I think I would say this was a guy that Michael considered on of his best friends. I wasn't sure and it took me a minute, but I decided it was likely and called his name, and sure enough it was him. I hadn't seen him since Michael's funeral.
We hugged, chatted, I met his youngest child, talked to his wife for a minute. There was another coworker there too. It was nice seeing them. There was something comforting in it, and for the kids…….they were thrilled. I think seeing him provided a special connection to their dad. They remembered going into the office and having lunch with their dad and Shane. It was like old times in a way. They talked about it all day long, long after we left the festivities. I think maybe for them it triggered some memories, and that made me quite happy.
After chatting for a while, we said our good byes and turned to leave. As I was walking away, the first thought to run through my head was, "Michael is not going to believe it when I tell him we ran into Shane today". And then I almost froze. It hit me. I almost had to physically shake my head. It was sort of that same feeling I used to get in the early days while I was at Target buying Speed Stick or at the grocery store loading up on his favorite foods. Certainly I didn't forget. I think that just like the kids it was a strong association. My only association with him. So for a moment, I forgot. Or my association trumped any brain training because while I trained myself so that daily shopping wasn't a minefield of upset, I didn't account for things like this, and how can you? When I think about it, it's no different than when I have questions about my car and I think, "I need to ask my dad….", only to remind myself, I cannot. Those associations are so deep, they are so automatic, they just pop up. It makes me feel a little sad, and a little crazy. But it's okay. It's just how it goes. You can't protect yourself from everything. Try as you might, you just can't prevent those moments from creeping in and taking you by surprise. I'm starting to think that is just what it's going to be like. And I think, somehow, it's part of the healing.
Instead of wandering through a store, I started walking through stores purposefully. I remember very vividly being at Target one day before a trip to Florida. I kept saying things to myself (not out loud) like , boys flips flops yes, girls flips flops yes, women's flip flops yes, men's flips flops no we don't need those. I would do the same thing at the grocery store, because there were several foods that only he ate, and I would stock up on them when they were on sale. As I write this, I realize I don't even look in certain areas of the store anymore. My plan has apparently worked. It's not that I don't want to remember him, but it is upsetting (and makes a person feel a little crazy) to get to the cash register with pepsi and sweet tea when no one in the house drinks those things anymore.
Fast forward to this year on the 4th of July, I took the children to our local 4th of July parade and arts festival. We had a really nice day. The parade was long and hot but interesting and very patriotic. I like instilling that patriotic spirit in my kids. They stood when the flag went past, and took part in a standing ovation as the veterans went by in a caravan. We saw Southern Belle's, enjoyed some silly guys dancing with lawn chairs, and lots of cool cars. Mostly we enjoyed some nice family time together. After the parade, we perused the arts booths and headed over for some "fair food" for lunch. Due to the heat, we went to eat in the shade and listen to a band that was performing. While we were eating a man walked by that looked a lot like a guy that used to work for Michael. And not just work for him. Michael loved this guy. They played fantasy football, and basketball, they hung out and really seemed to "get " each other. Sometimes we had them over to cookout. I think I would say this was a guy that Michael considered on of his best friends. I wasn't sure and it took me a minute, but I decided it was likely and called his name, and sure enough it was him. I hadn't seen him since Michael's funeral.
We hugged, chatted, I met his youngest child, talked to his wife for a minute. There was another coworker there too. It was nice seeing them. There was something comforting in it, and for the kids…….they were thrilled. I think seeing him provided a special connection to their dad. They remembered going into the office and having lunch with their dad and Shane. It was like old times in a way. They talked about it all day long, long after we left the festivities. I think maybe for them it triggered some memories, and that made me quite happy.
After chatting for a while, we said our good byes and turned to leave. As I was walking away, the first thought to run through my head was, "Michael is not going to believe it when I tell him we ran into Shane today". And then I almost froze. It hit me. I almost had to physically shake my head. It was sort of that same feeling I used to get in the early days while I was at Target buying Speed Stick or at the grocery store loading up on his favorite foods. Certainly I didn't forget. I think that just like the kids it was a strong association. My only association with him. So for a moment, I forgot. Or my association trumped any brain training because while I trained myself so that daily shopping wasn't a minefield of upset, I didn't account for things like this, and how can you? When I think about it, it's no different than when I have questions about my car and I think, "I need to ask my dad….", only to remind myself, I cannot. Those associations are so deep, they are so automatic, they just pop up. It makes me feel a little sad, and a little crazy. But it's okay. It's just how it goes. You can't protect yourself from everything. Try as you might, you just can't prevent those moments from creeping in and taking you by surprise. I'm starting to think that is just what it's going to be like. And I think, somehow, it's part of the healing.
Comments
Post a Comment