Monday Morning Musing: Reading Material & A $20 Tricycle

Yesterday marked three months since Bruce died.  Writing that here makes it no easier to believe.  In some respects, it seems as though it has been forever since I held his hand or heard him say: “Hey Jewels?” which was how he started many of our conversations.  What I would give…

Tomorrow is my birthday.  Last year on this date, because it seemed something of an auspicious occasion, all of the kids came into town and we enjoyed the long holiday weekend together. Bruce had temporary tattoos with my picture on them made for each of us, which was honestly pretty hilarious.  Especially because all but two of us have actual tattoos. But who doesn’t want to sport their mother’s face on some part of their body, even temporarily? 

Some of you know that I am a voracious reader.  I always have been.  As a child my mother used to take me to the public library which was absolutely the very best part of the week.  I would leave that place with my arms filled with books….a whole stack of them! 

In this season, I’ve been reading lots of different kinds of books; the end of summer just feels like the perfect time to do that.   I’ve even pulled a couple of old favorites down from my bookshelves and enjoyed them once again.  And I’ve been reading books related to grief, because I process experiences and events with words.  Mine and others. 

So, I want to commend to you some books today, if you are grieving, or if you know someone who is. 

 The first two books are written by the same author, Mary Frances O’Connor.  She is a neuroscientist and psychologist and researcher who has studied the impact grief has on our brains and our bodies.   In The Grieving Body she studies the way grief affects our bodily systems.  And although it is widely documented that grief and loss have a negative impact on our bodies, she has found and she shares with her readers, how we also have an opportunity for healing through the bodies we inhabit.  She hopefully notes: “But grieving is not only about loss-related healing.  It is also about restoration of a meaningful life.”  The book is divided into two parts; the first part addresses the body’s systems individually.  The second part addresses how we heal.

In The Grieving Brain, O’Connor addresses how our brains adapt and how we learn from loss.  Of particular interest to me in this book was how our brains create new neural pathways to adapt to the absence of our loved one and how this takes time.  In the early days after Bruce died, I was always reaching for my phone to text or call him.  I often thought that I needed to tell him something urgently – forgetting that he was gone.  O’Connor writes: “Grief changes the rules of the game, rules that you thought you knew and had been using until this point.”

Both volumes were exceptionally helpful as I learned to understand that what was happening to my brain and to my body were normal parts of grief and loss.  Not only would I recommend these to those who are grieving, but I would commend them to those who care for the grieving, including physicians, therapists, family, and friends. 

Which brings me to this “Birdwalk”: Some of you have heard me tell the story of keeping a hard- to- get appointment for a physical one month after Bruce died.  (If you’ve heard this story, you can skip ahead!).  The medical assistant entered the exam room first.  I told her that Bruce had died just one month before and that this was my first time being in a room with medical equipment since spending three weeks in the hospital with him.  She quickly and curtly and awkwardly said “I’m sorry for your loss”, followed by “now let’s take your blood pressure” followed by “and now let’s do a cognitive test”. 

The cognitive test went like this:

Her: What is the year?           Me: 2025

Her: Who is the President?   Me: UGH! Fine.  Voldermort. (Not really, I said his name)

Her: I’m going to name five items and I want you to remember them to repeat back to me later.  Ready?  Lamp. Skis. House. Star. Pony.

Now I want you to name as many animals as you can in one minute.  Go!  Me: Alligator, baboon, cheetah, dog, elephant, ferret, gorilla, hippo, iguana….etc….(pretty proud of thinking alphabetically and then I realized I’ll bet everyone’s brains need to organize like that).

Her: Now name those five items.    Me: Lamp. Skis. House. Star. Pony.

Her: Now here’s a math problem.  You had $100, but you spent $20 on a tricycle.  You need to go to the store to buy apples, which are $3/dozen.  How many apples can you buy with your remaining money? 

Me: Why did I spend $20 on a tricycle?  Also: I COULD NOT DO THIS PROBLEM ON A NORMAL DAY MUCH LESS NOW.

Her: Name those five words again.

Me: I’ve let those five words go.  You indicated I’d need to repeat them, but you didn’t say multiple times and so they are gone out of my head lady.

Her: Tsk. Tsk. I’m putting in your chart that you have mild cognitive diminishment.

Me: WHAT?  Did you hear me?  My husband died one month…..30 days ago.  No.  I have GRIEF BRAIN.

Her: Leaves the room as quickly as possible.

The doctor wasn’t sympathetic to what I’d just gone through except to say that the assistant had given me the wrong test.  I noted that my chart still said I had mild cognitive diminishment.  She said she’d add “likely due to grief.”

I have, of course, reached out to the practice and to the physician to ask that this be removed from my chart (to which I’ve received no specific answer) and to recommend some continuing education around grief and loss, beginning with these two volumes. 

Here’s my advice to us all: When they begin the cognitive test, get out your phone and record everything.  All of it.

Here ends my Birdwalk.

Anyway.  Back to one final book recommendation. The Madness of Grief  is a memoir by Anglican priest Richard Coles, about the death of his longtime partner (and fellow priest) David.  In part because of our shared vocation, but mostly because of the depth of loss he describes so achingly, I found great balm in these pages.  Coles is an accomplished writer but the reader gets the sense that they are privy to his innermost emotions as he finds his way through the weeks after David’s death.  This quote hit home as I considered the many people I have loved and lost: “as you live on you realise we are not so much the authors of our lives but a library of other people.”  

What are you reading these days, dear ones?  I’d love to know.  Feel free to leave your favorites in the comments; I’m always looking for my next good read. Maybe you are too. And my hope for you is that whatever you are reading, it is filling your mind and heart and spirit with just what you need. 

Now, if I could just remember why I spent $20 on a tricycle…..