Flight Home

Just when I think I have things together, it is interesting how the grief bug just comes and smacks me.

This past weekend I went to my semiannual widows and widowers conference in Utah. It was a wonderful trip, as every one of those trips is. I always just NEED that trip away to clear my head, to not have kids hanging on me and to be with other adults for a bit. I really didn't cry at all this trip. I was just glad to laugh with other widow(er)s this trip and it felt really good. I think it has to do with time and the healing that has taken place. Plus I have made some amazing friends. Friends are wonderful.

On my flight home, I contemplated a list. Making a list of triggers so that I can be a bit more prepared on how to deal with the obvious triggers that come my way. Still.

And just like that, I was reminded once again that there isn't logic to grief. And a list just doesn't cut it.

For an entire flight, I had been sitting across the aisle from this cute little elderly couple. The wife had needed a walker to get on the plane. And her husband sat in the aisle seat across from my aisle seat. They were quiet, and I was getting some good reading done. I wasn't paying much attention to them. I did notice a couple times that the husband touched the sleeve of the guy in front of him, giving that mad a bit of a startle...as though the elderly man wasn't exactly aware of his surroundings. I didn't think a whole lot of it. I mean, he was a bit age-ed. After our plane landed, I heard his wife mutter, "Oh NO. You aren't supposed to do THAT." I looked over and the old man had taken off his shoe and sort of held it up, like it was normal to take off a shoe when a plane lands, when all passengers are darting to the aisle, hoping to get off the place quickly. I was about to lean over and help but quickly realized that this was a moment that she needed to take care of. She was not very happy that he took off his shoe. It is difficult to lean over and move things around by one's feet in an airplane, but combine that with age and weakened agility--not a good thing. I had to look away as I started sobbing silently. In that moment, I pictured old Adam sitting next to me. Having dementia like this older gentleman and ME having to be that wife taking care him as he would do crazy, unintentionally obnoxious things. It was in this moment that I could so easily picture this future that will never be. I cried and thought about how it will just NEVER BE. I'm sure it sounds a little crazy to want a little crazy in my life like this older woman had, but sometimes I just long for those things that would've been our life.

I sense that these little triggers will continue as long as I live. There isn't anything I can do to prepare for them or avoid them. They will simply happen. I think the only thing I can do is hope and pray to fill my life with things that make me feel like my life is mine--all mine--and do all that I can to continue building my new life. It'll happen in time.