I remember that day in much more detail than I wish I could.
Many folks who’ve gone through the same or similar traumas have often mentioned that they don’t remember much about it; sadly, I remember way too much.
I wanted to just pass out and disconnect from the world for a moment, but I couldn’t. All I could do was sit there, too stunned to even let go and cry in the way I wished I could, and be hyper-aware of everything that was going on.
As the days went on though, that is when things started getting a little more blurry.
I have many detailed memories of that time, but (thankfully) there are also full blocks of time that are just gone. Of the times I can recall, many of them are actually good memories. Friends came and went freely, dropping in to check on me and my daughter. Sometimes we’d even watch TV or funny movies together. (Certain TV programs actually helped a lot, like the episode of The Golden Girls where Blanche dreams that her beloved George is back, a dream that had been recurring for her and ended up bringing her a lot of comfort.)
Of the times that I can’t recall, though, I am not upset about it. I don’t grieve times I can’t remember because I never wanted to remember them.
Something I do recall from those early days is how my body physically hurt. My skin felt like I had an angry sunburn. It hurt to be touched. It felt as if I’d been in some big accident and my entire body had been injured. My early grief wasn’t just emotional, it was physical.
I do not recall day-to-day activities like showering and even sleeping. Yet I have positive associations with the Dutch Bros “Dutch To Go” coffee my parents had picked up so that making the morning coffee–Bret had always been the one to make our morning coffee–wouldn’t be triggering to me. To this day, thinking of those 96-oz to-go boxes brings a calm feeling over me, as it had once been something intended to offer me comfort.
As so many years have now gone by, I find that the lack of memories is not exclusive to just those early days. Once I had tried to get back on my feet, things fell apart even more than they had right after he left us. Due to that lovely phenomenon called “Widow Brain” (or “Widow’s Fog”), there are years for which I only have a handful of concrete memories. Looking back on these blogs and some of my others has been helpful in remembering what happened and when. In more recent years, I find I have more memories; I guess that means my memory is finally healing as well.
For those in the early days of grief, just be gentle with yourself.
Keep a diary or journal if you want to be able to look back at how things were in the beginning.
Lovingly let friends and family know about Widow Brain so that they don’t get annoyed if you have spaced on some things. Calendar and Reminder apps come in handy, as do just good old-fashioned calendars that you can hang up in a place you will see every day, if you find yourself struggling with keeping on track.
Sometimes things that were blocked out early on will surface to the top, and now, since so much time has passed, they don’t sting as much. Often, they actually bring a smile to my face as I recall kindnesses extended to me and the love from our community that had also been stunned by Bret’s death.
Time really does heal all wounds, and I guess suppressing certain memories is one of the ways in which it does. I, for one, am thankful for that.
There are just some things that are meant to be forgotten entirely.
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A month after Bret ended his life. I was still pretty disassociated as one can see. (Photo (c) L. Munk)
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About Layla Beth Munk
Layla Beth Munk is a blogger & author who was thrust into this widowhood journey abruptly and tragically on February 11, 2018. Her husband of 12 years had ended his pain once and for all. She soon made the decision that she would not let his final decision define the rest of her life or their daughter’s life, so with her sense of humor at the helm, she started writing about her newfound station in life. Grief waves still get to her, and probably always will, but with the help of her fellow widows as well as friends and family, she has been able to realize her dream of becoming a published author! Layla is so grateful to Hope For Widows Foundation for providing this level of support to her, and so many others! Layla has two amazing children, one who is grown and one who is almost grown. She lives in eastern Oregon and has a wellness & beauty background. Layla enjoys writing poetry, watching anime, and homeschooling her daughter.
Her blog can be found at laylabethmunk.medium.com and her debut novella, 24 Hours in Vegas, is available on Amazon.