“Mom, don’t buy these kind of bagels anymore.”
Coming from my pickiest child, I rolled my eyes and continued to pop one into the toaster for my oldest. Without even looking at my son who made the comment, I responded “and why is that?” Snarkier than I wished when I listened to his response.
“Because they remind me of my old school. I had a lot of fun there. I miss those friends. I would eat those bagels every morning. I just don’t want to think about that.”
Coming from a 6-year-old, there was a lot to unpack. I honestly was surprised by his ability to articulate this grief. But most importantly, it started me thinking about ways I have ‘amputated’ parts of my life because of the grief I associated with it.
Amputating is a NORMAL response to grief.
If it’s out of sight and out of mind, surely I won’t continue to hurt, right?
In my experience, that’s not exactly how it works.
Amputation will work for a period of time. We can try to rid our life of the triggers of memories. We can try to suppress the emotions we had toward our person, our experience and/or our dream.
But trying to have control of the grief process is exhausting. We can’t control triggers. We can’t control memories. We can’t control the waves of our emotions. Grief, after all, is the witness of the depth of our love.
Next time you find yourself wanting to amputate, try to reshape your frame of reference.
After hearing my son’s response, I asked him what was a memory he had from his old school that he really loved. From that memory, we created an opportunity–we scheduled a playdate with a friend he hadn’t seen in a while.
Have you experienced this? I’d love to hear your story below.