In a previous post, I have ruminated on the workings of the brain. I mean, the human brain is like a powerful computer that stores our memory and controls how we as humans think and react. The brain is also the centre of the human nervous system, controlling our thoughts, movements, memories and decisions. In many ways, I have given up trying to understand the way my brain works! I mean why is it that I love the Beatles and don’t like Elvis? Why is lightning, thunder and rain like music to my ears but the wind drives me nuts? Why do I love just about every vegetable but brussel sprouts? Why is pineapple on a pizza a must-have, while anchovies and olives are a definite no-no? Why do videos of “Grumpy Cat” send me into hysterics? Why is it that the ratio of emotional to rational is so far out of whack for me? Why doesn’t getting sprung car dancing at the traffic lights embarrass me but compliments do? I have never shied away from providing fodder for laughter for family and friends but today something happened that was totally beyond the realms of embarrassment and ventured into total “what-the” territory and made me wonder for the millionth time about how my brain truly works!

Today I was over at Westfield to do some work bits and pieces. As I began to mentally tick off the things I had to do I noticed a man up ahead of me. He was a tradie with the tell-tale fluoro orange shirt, work pants and boots. He was about six foot one inches tall with not much hair to show and a medium build. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, even though Chris has been gone for more than two years now, I was certain this man was Chris. Imagine his surprise and my horror when I grab him on the arm and say “Chris”! That moment was only surpassed in humiliation by the moments after that of me bursting into tears and trying my hardest to explain what had just happened! Not for the first time I despaired at the thought that a relatively normal, educated, moderately mature person could behave in such an irrational manner. If it wasn’t so grossly unfunny, it would be funny!

Before you call the men in white coats to take me away, I do know how crazy all that sounds. I know Chris is gone and is never coming back. That man in the Mall could never have been Chris and even though he was very kind and understanding I can only imagine what he told his mates when he got back to work today. As understanding as he was, I hope I don’t run into him again because the moment reality kicked in and I realised he wasn’t Chris I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole! I have spent the time between then and now trying to figure out what happened and the only conclusion I could come to is neither sensible or rational. Neil Gairman said “We often confuse what we wish for with what is”. I think that somewhere, in the deep recesses of my mind what I wanted shut out what really was. I think my heart was telling my brain that it had been wrong all this time, that in fact Chris had really just been away on a fishing trip all this time! For maybe thirty seconds or so the reality of what is had disappeared into the realm of what I wanted life to be.

Needless to say that today has taken on a melancholy air. To use a saying I really don’t like but it just seems to fit, it is what it is. Even when I’m circling the drain it’s easiest to just go with the flow rather than fight against it. I have often joked that I should write a book entitled “What NOT To Say To Someone Who’s Grieving” because of some of the very well intentioned but very misguided things people have said to me over the last two and a half years. The truth is that all of those things probably pale in comparison to the things I say to myself. “You should be over this by now”. “Things shouldn’t hurt this much still”. “Things will never get better”. “The people on the other end of my rope will get tired of me and let go”. It’s easier said than done, turning off the negative self talk, putting a stop to the head miles, fighting the urge to indulge in self-pity, being fearful that my shadow is bigger than my light.

I am going to take some of my own advice though. Fall down seven times, get up eight. So, even though I am certain of the fact that there will always be a Chris size hole in both my heart and my life there is also a glimmer of hope. I know it’s been said that a little bit of hope is a dangerous thing. I choose to believe Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) from The Shawshank Redemption (which by the way is one of the best movies ever made!) who said in a letter to Red (Morgan Freeman) “Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe one of the best things, and no good thing ever dies.” So here are the things I am hoping for. I am waiting for the day where memories of Chris will bring more pleasure than pain, hopeful that it will be sooner rather than later. I am relying on the people in my life to stay in this fight with me, hopeful that they won’t get too frustrated with me. My hope is that I will be the storm instead of just weathering it. Most of all I hope to get to a place where I’m not just watching sunsets, I’m chasing them. And why? That’s an easy question to answer. I owe it to my kids, family and friends and I owe it to myself but I also know that Chris would hate me not to be living my best life. So even though today I fell down, tomorrow I get up, dust myself off and keep going.

Always and forever!