Information and advice for grieving survivors concerning “grief triggers” is both abundant and easy to find. However, much of the stuff I have seen seems directed to teaching how one can brace against the effects of grief, focusing on such major milestones as birthdays, anniversaries, holiday celebrations and the like. Considering my own case, as I look back, in the interim since Lee’s death I think I have experienced these major events feeling less emotional pain than I had anticipated before each event occurred.
On the other hand, from the outset some of the most emotionally fraught moments occurred when I would least have expected them to occur. Without warning or anticipation, something will hit me, and, in the moment, I am blindsided by grief. I refer to these occasional unexpected moments of grief as “sneaky” grief. For example, my first such attack of sneaky grief involved the simple act of driving to a store to buy groceries, itself a mundane and routine task, which, except for fetching and unloading them, Lee had enjoyed performing solo during her lifetime.
***
For a variety of reasons, including a natural lean toward procrastination, for the past several months my dining room tabletop has been cluttered with all manner of papers: paid bills, including some receipts, medical information, real estate transactions, insurance coverages, clipped news articles, business cards, recipes, individual contact information, and so forth. The principal reason for this clutter is that I am still in the process of preparing to file my income tax returns, which, consistent with my inclination toward procrastination, I routinely will extend until the last possible moment, a moment suddenly now fast approaching.
After this year’s scramble, I am fed up with my goldbricking ways to the point where at last I have made a serious commitment to establishing a streamlined and workable organizational scheme, and to staying on track and up to date with my record keeping throughout the entire year. This process includes culling a massive amount of accumulated paperwork, which, in turn, means that recently I have been carefully reviewing everything, file by file, subject by subject.
In the process I come across so many documents addressed jointly to me and Lee that it is impossible not to be reminded of some aspect of our life together. In my mind’s eye I am observing isolated moments in time and revisiting the most personal feelings and emotions, strangely, moments, feelings and emotions captured and embedded in these otherwise prosaic business documents. Taken as a whole, these documents touch upon hearth and home, issues of health, our careers, our travels together, really, it is all there.
***
Scanning the dining room table top I grab the file labeled “Long Term Care Insurance,” then carefully review its contents. Almost missed among the dozens of notices and invoices that will need to be shredded and disposed of as part of my reorganization, I come across a letter from the insurer back in 2020 that is addressed to me. The insurance company’s letter begins with a condolence statement concerning Lee’s recent death, then goes on to inform me that, because of her death, it is waiving premium payments effective immediately.
I stop reading to catch my breath. I close my eyes and bury my face in my hands. Tears are flowing freely.
I look at other files piled all around me, and ask myself how many more sad surprises might be waiting in store for me? Beyond the papers, I stop to consider the nooks and crannies that are full of stuff, the crowded drawers, the crammed closets that I have been avoiding since Lee’s death. The place is full of misplaced feelings and memories just waiting for me to rediscover them. I wonder whether subconsciously I have been avoiding taking stock fully to be spared from experiencing too many jarring emotional surprises.
***
Despite moments of sudden and profound sadness occasioned by attacks of sneaky grief, after more than two years without Lee I am just beginning to understand how grief can help to keep Lee’s love alive and her spirit awake. Going forward, rather than avoiding grief, it is time I fully embraced it for what it means.
