Reminders of Death

When I was getting married my mother didn't want me to use calla lilies in my bouquet.  To her, it was a "death flower" something that reminded her of funerals.  But I didn't have that association, it was always my favorite flower.  It's odd the things I will always associate with death: a song, fruit, and lasagna.  Two of which I have run into in the past week and it got me thinking.

Lasagna, in itself does not scream: DEATH.  But, in the days and weeks and months that my friends and family fed me, there was a lot of lasagna.  I think we had a lasagna a week the first month and at one point I had 6 in my freezer.  I gamely worked on eating them once a month until I just couldn't face another one.  This is not a rebuke of the folks that fed me, just that lasagna has become a reminder of that time after Jeff's death.  I don't think I will ever voluntarily eat lasagna again.  Here is one time my new gluten free lifestyle is a win-win!

Fruit is an odd one - but then not really once you know the story.  In the weeks after Jeff's death many people who lived further away struggled with something they could send, other than flowers, and thus they sent Edible Arrangements.

 

I got a lot of these, in fact by Saturday, the driver from the local store remarked that he had been to my house every day that week and sometimes with multiple baskets.  I received an Edible Arrangement again a week ago.  I stood in my kitchen in shock, staring at the package, with the only thought in my head that this wasn't an anniversary date of any sort relating to Jeff or Jeff's death. Until I read the card.  It was a thank you. Unfortunately, I didn't feel thanked, all I could think of was that you get these fruit arrangements when someone dies. It turns out, these lovely fruit arrangements are something I can do without.

Sunday at church they sang Amazing Grace.  I was struck dumb, legs locked.  I discovered: I can't sing the words.  My throat swelled shut and I worked very hard to not cry.  I will forever associate Amazing Grace with Jeff's funeral and I doubt I will ever sing it again.  It is beautiful and moving and I'm just proud of myself for not bawling through it.

I wouldn't expect anyone to recognize these items as triggers for me or anyone else in grief.  They are random and personal.  You can't avoid running into a reminder anymore than you can avoid the bug that hits your windshield.  I'm learning to take a reminder in stride to keep on trucking after I smack right into one.  It isn't easy but it is necessary.  I mean, when fruit can through you for loop, what else can you do?

I didn't throw the basket of fruit away, I didn't walk out of church, and I just don't have to ever bake a lasagna again.  Just know that there are so many random reminders of death: sights, smells and sounds.  So if you happen to see me crying over a basket of fruit, I'm not crazy.  I'm just re-living the moment.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Wife