Do you wanna know what grief is? Grief is the unforgettable. Even if you wanted to forget. Even if you tried to forget, grief will not stand for that much disrespect. Even though through time, we may be able to relegate and compartmentalize grief to only a designated section of our heart, it will at some point escape its confines. When it does, it will invade your present. It will take hostage of the very moment that you are in. Grief demands attention. Either with a fond memory, a current aroma, a song playing in the distance, the shining of the sun, the blowing of the wind. Or any other thing that can act as a trigger to allow grief to take charge, if for a brief moment. Grief can have the ways of a ninja warrior. Coming in under the cloak of darkness. Cunning and skillful, but able to wreak havoc of your life in no time. It invades and floods your present state with the memories of past times.
More realization, less denial
A few weeks ago, on a bright and sun shiny Monday morning, I got up and got ready for work like I normally do (my new normal). I talked and joked around with my sister, who’s staying with me, for a few minutes before I walked out the door. Everything seemed fine. Everything seemed okay. My drive to work, which on average takes about thirty five minutes, was uneventful. Nothing special. As I began to exit off the freeway, about five minutes from my job, all of a sudden, I felt this huge wave of emotion that washed over me like a tsunami! I didn’t know what hit me. Within a matter of seconds, I was a complete blubbering mess. At that moment, I glanced at my gps and it said I had five minutes before I made it to work. In my mind, I told myself that I had five minutes to get myself together. Once I made it into the parking garage and parked my truck, I tried to get out of the truck. When I stood up, the waterworks really began to flow. I fell completely apart. I sat back down and tried to wait it out. It only got worse. I couldn’t control myself. I cried and I cried. It became more violent. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t reel it in. Finally I gave up. I pulled out my phone and texted my immediate boss. I simply told her I was not feeling well. I told her I tried to make it, but I just couldn’t do it. I started my truck and drove home (thank God for Ford Blue Cruise. IYKYK).
Since that day, I have had a few times where that has happened, but not to that severity. I’ve wondered what was that all about? Why did it come on so suddenly? Was there any warning that maybe I missed? What caused it? What was the trigger, if any? Before you say or think it, no I’m not trying to control it. What I’ve come to discover is that I cannot control the emotions of my grief. They still, more or less, control me. I just want to know what is happening to me, to my mind, my heart, my body as I travel on this grief journey.
Behind my Eyes
Early on, I learned to pay attention to what was going on within my body and mind. I learned to sense when I was going to have one of my “episodes”. Lots of times, on the outside I could look as if I had it all together. However, behind my eyes, I could feel the outburst brewing, like sensing a thunderstorm right before the rain starts. It begins with a feeling of nervousness. I get the jitters. I begin to feel my heart racing. My breathing pattern becomes erratic, like I’ve been jogging. My mind races and I have an overwhelming feeling of doom and fear. Much like an anxiety attack. However, this presents with pure emotions – pure uncontrollable emotions. Its as if I’m at her bedside again at the moment she took her last breath.
The Crazy Dream
Do you wanna know what grief is? Its the slow, little by little daily realization that she is not here and not returning.
The other day, I had one of the craziest dreams about Kandi that I had yet to have. I dreamt that she was back! That she had returned. But not just that she had returned, but that God had made an exact copy of her. In the dream, I knew that she had passed. However, God made a new her, just for me! Same smile, same personality, same sense of humor, same love for me and our kids. Everything was the same. I was so happy to have her back. Even this exact copy. I couldn’t believe it!
As year two has commenced, the new realization has now come to the forefront in my heart. I am actually having to do life, move forward and carry on, without her physical presence. She is still in my heart. Her spirit and legacy are still with me. Almost a night does not pass that I don’t dream about her.
But this Ninja Grief though. As I describe it, is sneaky and elusive. Attacking at the most inopportune times. It is devastating and debilitating. I feel as though I am paralyzed in that moment. Whatever I had in mind to do, is not getting done.
Carrying On In the New Normal
I think the Ninja Grief is really not so Ninja. I think its my heart and mind trying to slow me down and not allow me to move on so fast. The memories that I attempt to pack away while I try to resume some form of a “new normal” won’t allow me to forget. So they pop back up with some type of trigger, in the form of grief to remind me of a lifestyle that is no more.
I cannot forget my former life or Kandi. Honestly, I really don’t want to forget. So, in a way I appreciate the reminders. I am told that one day these pop up memories will come and they will not bring tears or uncontrollable and debilitating outbursts. But a smile. A loving and endearing peace to my heart that will lift me up and help me to remember . . .
יזכור
(Heb. “He will remember”)