Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.
Yesterday I went to the musuem with my family. It was a treat for my grandson who ran straight As this semester. He's 7 and my grand-daughter is 2, so I thought it best to include the parents as I'm not very educated about children and didn't want to do it on my own.
I hadn't been to the museum in over two decades. It was a favorite of mine growing up. Mom used to take me there when I was a child. Anyhow, mom passed away in 1999. It was tough, I cried many nights over her and then she started fading from my memory or so I thought.
We've all heard it, people saying that eventually you start to forget. I've heard some even say that the sound of their voices even fades. In the past year I notice that memories of my husband are starting to feel distant, like they happened to someone else. It's almost like losing him again. I figured eventually it would be like Mom, where I hardly think of her now and have trouble remembering certain things. Then it started.
Two nights ago I was looking for something to watch on my netflix streaming service. I saw the listing for a movie called "The Sprit is Willing,". The film wasn't a hit, in fact it was a made for TV movie. Suddenly, I started singing the song from this film I hadn't seen since 1969. I remembered Mom sitting next to me watching it. It was a strange feeling because I had no memory of this film prior to seeing the listing. But the brain had stored it away, ready for retrieval at a moments notice.
The same with my musuem visit. Like I said, I hadn't been there in decades, yet as I turned down the curved road leading to the structure, memories starting coming back: my mom walking with me, holding my hand. My mom laughing at something or another. Inside the memories grew stronger and the long buried came back like flowers in the spring. I gasped as I remembered her standing at one exhibit, her red and grey dress emphasising her beautiful eyes. I remembered her unique scent and her long tapered fingers. Then the memories grew stronger till I felt like she was there. At one point I closed my eyes as I sat on an exhibit, remembering her sitting next to me explaining how she'd come there as a girl.
The brain is an interesting instrument, one science doesn't fully understand. In nursing schoool they explained about memory, and how the brain bulds pathways to information. Picture a street in your neighborhood: There's probably more than one way home. That's how the brain works. It has all these pathways. If you don't use one of them for some time, you may think you've forgotten it entirely. But you haven't. It's still there, ready to be uncovered at a moments notice.
It can be triggered by a scent, a song, or just going back to a place you haven't seen in years. That's what happened to me with the musuem and the old movie.
It was a wonderful day, our day at the musuem. It was a gift to see my grandkids eyes light up as mine once did, but I received two gifts--the other the knowledge that no matter how weak my memories of my husband are becoming, everything is being stored in my brain for later retreival. And when I remember him, I'll remember his touch, the way he laughed while watching Fraisier, the way his eyes looked on a warm summer day. It is a gift from God.
I hadn't been to the museum in over two decades. It was a favorite of mine growing up. Mom used to take me there when I was a child. Anyhow, mom passed away in 1999. It was tough, I cried many nights over her and then she started fading from my memory or so I thought.
We've all heard it, people saying that eventually you start to forget. I've heard some even say that the sound of their voices even fades. In the past year I notice that memories of my husband are starting to feel distant, like they happened to someone else. It's almost like losing him again. I figured eventually it would be like Mom, where I hardly think of her now and have trouble remembering certain things. Then it started.
Two nights ago I was looking for something to watch on my netflix streaming service. I saw the listing for a movie called "The Sprit is Willing,". The film wasn't a hit, in fact it was a made for TV movie. Suddenly, I started singing the song from this film I hadn't seen since 1969. I remembered Mom sitting next to me watching it. It was a strange feeling because I had no memory of this film prior to seeing the listing. But the brain had stored it away, ready for retrieval at a moments notice.
The same with my musuem visit. Like I said, I hadn't been there in decades, yet as I turned down the curved road leading to the structure, memories starting coming back: my mom walking with me, holding my hand. My mom laughing at something or another. Inside the memories grew stronger and the long buried came back like flowers in the spring. I gasped as I remembered her standing at one exhibit, her red and grey dress emphasising her beautiful eyes. I remembered her unique scent and her long tapered fingers. Then the memories grew stronger till I felt like she was there. At one point I closed my eyes as I sat on an exhibit, remembering her sitting next to me explaining how she'd come there as a girl.
The brain is an interesting instrument, one science doesn't fully understand. In nursing schoool they explained about memory, and how the brain bulds pathways to information. Picture a street in your neighborhood: There's probably more than one way home. That's how the brain works. It has all these pathways. If you don't use one of them for some time, you may think you've forgotten it entirely. But you haven't. It's still there, ready to be uncovered at a moments notice.
It can be triggered by a scent, a song, or just going back to a place you haven't seen in years. That's what happened to me with the musuem and the old movie.
It was a wonderful day, our day at the musuem. It was a gift to see my grandkids eyes light up as mine once did, but I received two gifts--the other the knowledge that no matter how weak my memories of my husband are becoming, everything is being stored in my brain for later retreival. And when I remember him, I'll remember his touch, the way he laughed while watching Fraisier, the way his eyes looked on a warm summer day. It is a gift from God.
hugs...
-Diana
My parents were fading too, but every once in a while, some flash of memory comes to the surface and it's as if they are right beside me.
Hugs