Triggers that Find ME

It’s Sunday, and I’ve spent a lot of my weekend cleaning up and decluttering and organizing. 

I’ve gone through paperwork, I’ve thrown out or shredded a bunch of different stuff. 

And in the middle of it all – papers I had almost forgotten about. 

His disability parking permit. 

And the discharge papers from the hospital. 

Why do I read shit like that?   Why do I go through it, re-live all the moments that were sanitized down to 4 pages…?  

It doesn’t nearly describe the heartache.  It doesn’t nearly describe his determination to live.   It doesn’t nearly describe the painful moments of he was DONE. 

It just describes, in clear, concise medical terms, how his body failed him.  How he finally chose to stop fighting.   How he went from full code to comfort care. 

It doesn’t express how much he loved us, how he cried over his dog, how he asked our daughter in a private moment how I was doing.  It doesn’t tell how he was so determined to get well. 

It just describes the clinical moments of sick, worse, surgery, bleeds, and finally – a momentary sorrow at his passing. 

But leaves me remembering in vivid detail the moments, the pain, the sadness of a man who was our glue – who was so much more than what those 4 sheets of paper describe him as. 

The triggers suck.   But sometimes… I’m grateful for them; they break open the box of memories. 

And there’s so many good memories… 

Mark in Fruitvale

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Oh Wait, he already did…

I ended up in the ER last night.

I’m sure overall it was a combination of stress, anxiety and the energy drink I had, but I was having heart palpatations, sweating profusely, shaking, dizzy, lightheaded, and my left arm was achy.

So I went to the ER.   I had a friend drive me.

We were conversing while we waited for tests, doctors, etc.    I mentioned to the doctor and her that my husband had had 2 heart attacks.   I told her that I didn’t think that my kids could handle another parent having a heart attack.

She agreed with me.

I said that their dad had had two heart attacks in 2009.   That he just needed to stop having heart attacks…. oh wait.  He already did.

I don’t know what happened, or why or where that came from.  He’s been gone 2 years.    He stopped having heart attacks 2 years ago.  I have the record of his last heartbeat.

But there it was.

My friend just said, “I don’t know what to say to that”

And I started laughing, somewhat hysterically.   And then I started leaking.   Crying because for one single moment, one slip of the tongue, I forgot that he’d died.

How the FUCK did I forget that?

Seriously?  Even for one moment?

I don’t know.  But there it was.  Something I hadn’t done in 2 years of widow-hood.

“He needs to stop having heart attacks… Oh wait, he already did”

Fuck.

Heartbeat