I spotted her from the parking lot as she dashed into Wal-Mart that afternoon. I hurried to the entrance hoping it was my friend. She stood alone in the main aisle, head slightly down. She hesitated, glanced left and then right, seeming uncertain as to which direction to go. Then, in a burst of decision, she pushed the shopping cart at mach speed, straight ahead.
I recognized that push. I remembered that walk. I tasted that familiar curdle of anxiety in my throat again. I knew it had to be one of her first shopping trips since her husband died six weeks ago.
Our last visit was just three months ago at a birthday party for the one-year-old grandson of our mutual friend. Though some of us had been out of touch we gathered from afar to celebrate the birthday of this precious grandbaby named for his father’s brother – “Andy” – who died shortly after birth, just 27 years ago.
Each of us shared a unique relationship with Andrew’s grandmother, “Grandy”, the one filled with grace who always supported our dreams, rejoiced in our successes and embraced us through our losses. Our special bond with her extended to one another even though few of us spent time together without her. We reminisced over wine and barbequed ribs catching up on the latest moves, graduations, weddings, and retirements. Later, we gathered around Andrew for the happy birthday song and danced – a spontaneous eruption of love among this circle of friends.
Who knew that death lingered on the perimeter of joy?
The news was, of course, unexpected and stunning. Her husband was an expert climber and outdoorsman, more at home on the side of mountain than anywhere. I knew better than to justify my shock with that notion but it was a knee-jerk reaction in the anticipation of our daughter’s upcoming wedding that very week. Beginnings and endings, changes and transitions – life or death rarely waits for when ‘we’re ready’.
I know my friend will be okay. She is at the top of her game in the raised awareness/consciousness department. She has all the tools, the innate skills and the spiritual connections needed to manage this life challenge for her children and for herself.
But, seeing her lost and disoriented that day, trying to navigate what would have been a simple trip to the store three months before was heartbreaking. It reminded me that none of us can predict how or when the beast of grief will render us exposed and immobile.
With a heavy sigh, I also remembered that we can’t be “saved” from such an experience either, no matter what skills we possess or how much we know.
So, I didn’t follow her. I didn’t want to be the interruption to the process– I wanted to be the channel for healing. I had to trust – if it was meant for me to meet up with her, it would happen. And so, I prayed for the best possible outcome in that moment for my friend.
I took a sharp left and wandered around the cosmetic aisles, placing a few items in my basket. Checking my list, I walked across the main aisle toward electronics. There she was, straight ahead, anxiously waiting at the check-out counter. I had been called. I pushed ahead, ready to embrace my friend.
We talked quietly, hugging often. She was overwhelmed by the realization that one of the most difficult steps to the journey had begun with this outing, “the first shopping trip”. The funeral and memorial services were over, the traveling had ceased. The balance of a normal life was far from reach and the grieving had begun.
I offered to get together with her at another time and share some resources, but I felt compelled to do more. And then, I felt the nudge. She had come here for a reason – at least I could help her find the items on her list so she could get back to the arms of her children. Taking the lead, I pointed my cart to the open aisle where she followed me to the lingerie department. And that, was all she needed at the moment– someone to run interference while she regained her balance.
I can say with certainty that the key to surviving the death of a loved one is in how we are companioned. My dear “Grandy” and others have modeled that for me. I have been surrounded, lifted and carried by the most amazing companions. I share a unique bond with each of them, and although some of them are acquainted, for the most part the only thing they have in common is their love for me. They are connected on a higher level with the sole intention of loving me through the pain. When they heard the call, they responded without hesitation to my soul’s cry for help.
I am comforted by the fact that my friend has many circles of similar companions, old and new, who will appear when least expected and needed most. Recently, our friend “Grandy” came to town and this group of incredible women shared another wonderful evening of laughter and tears. Our grieving friend expressed her appreciation to me for our “shopping encounter”. My heart was full with gratitude and joy.
This holiday season, listen closely for the call, so you too, can be the channel for healing.
© 2010 Carla Blowey
Tags: anger, belongings, funerals, money, Depression, guilt, signs and connections
Listen closely for the call…This is beautiful, Thanks for sharing!
Thank you Julie!
On my first visit to the market after my husband died, I had an anxiety attack about half-way thru. I kept telling myself, “You can do this. You’re almost out of here. Hang on.” I made it. Don’t remember how long it took to get thru the shopping trips without trauma. It was a mine field. Would start putting peaches in a bag…. uh oh. Don’t need six or four. You’re shopping for one now. Couldn’t go down the pasta/tomato sauce aisle for MONTHS. (He was Italian.) The small things … the big things … all so difficult.
My husband died 7 weeks ago aged 53, he was on his way home from work and was killed by a thoughtless driver. I feel like I also died 7 weeks ago, I am no longer Carole age 48, I am a widow trying to get through a day at a time and when I tried to go to the shop I ended up buying Derek’s treats and not realising what I had done until I got home. It is a dark journey and I am not coping too well. Yes it is all so difficult.
Thank you for writing this Carla. I went to a discount store several days after my daughter was killed in a car crash. When I reached the produce department I “froze” and started to cry. Shoppers turned their carts around or backed away, which made things worse. Then a physician I had worked with on a committee approached me, gave me a hug, and said “I’m so sorry.” Her kindness enabled me to finish my shopping. All of us can be on the lookout for those who are mourning and help when we can.
Harriet Hodgson
I lost my son a few months ago. He died in his sleep at the age of 29. Cause of death Bacterial Phneumonia! He only was sick 2 days????? Anyway my encounter happened the same way. I went to the store to only make it up the second isle and I saw the Christmas decorations and I was paralized! Tears…..panic…..fear…..how do I get out of here! All of a sudden a long lost friend with a huge smile on her face came up to me offering love and condolences and distraction and I regained my composure and was able to finish what I had started. Thank you to all of you who are called along side those of us who are so deeply wounded and in need of a helping hand or word or prayer! Janet@riverside-elec.com
My husband, Allen, died May 13, 2009. Tonight is the first time I’ve searched for an online group about grief. I’ve only read a few posts so far, but the shopping thing is so true. I still cry every time I go to the grocery store, seeing all the special things I’d pick up for him. I can’t even go near the men’s department, where I always loved to get new shirts for him. Home Depot is impossible. We had so much fun there – and he was like a kid in a candy store in the Sears tool section. I think I need to read some more on this site. Many of my friends don’t even want to deal with me anymore. I’m tired of hearing that I have to move on.
My thanks to all of you who left a comment. I’m glad this article validated your experiences with this issue. Some of my worst holiday season shopping cart trauma experiences were triggered by the memories of our last Christmas with Kevin. But even a quick trip to the grocery store for a box of Cheerios ended with tears at the check out. Seemingly random acts of kindness from friends, and strangers, were saving acts of grace.
I lost my dear husband on December 14. I am learning that there are many things that will bring on tears and sadness, from the grocery store to the back porch where he sat so often. A little while ago, I was swept away by emotion when I opened the blinds in his office. But I do not want people hovering over me. I cannot stand to be “patted” by semi-strangers who think they can share what I feel. I’m supposed to go back to work on Tuesday, but I’m not sure that I can.
My husband died in October, three weeks before our 50th anniversary. Life is very hard now. He died suddenly from a heart attack. My thoughts and prayers go to each of you. I don’t know if everything will EVER be okay again. I learned a lot from your comments and mostly that I’m not the only one who is having a rough time. I hope 2011 will bring peace to you.
I lost my dear beloved husband just a year ago…I had been stoic & strong for the most part of the past year but I ‘lost’ it on the day of his 1st anniversary-I have been going through extreme highs & lows these past few days. I dread going back to work tomorrow; while I’m grateful that I have a job I feel out of sorts, no joy in the daily grind–I will miss my beloved’s hug and assurance that it would be all right; I will miss sharing with him how my day went. I just feel so alone.
Oh Clare
You are in my prayers… I understand how you feel… my husband died as a result of a fall 5 years ago and now my only son Mitchell was killed in a car accident 4 weeks ago…. I have learnt that time helps but it never heals… And when you say you dont want people hovering over you or patted by semi strangers…. no-one will EVER know how you feel even people that have been through the same thing. We are all different in the way we grieve and there is no right or wrong… My heart was broken when John died but now it has been crushed and torn…. The thing that really gets me is people wanting to hug me and tell me it will be okay !!!!!! I could just scream …. It will never be okay until we see our loved ones again !!!!
I to Clare have to go back to work soon as we both know or we are told every day by some “well meaning” person…. life goes on.
There is nothing I can say but just know that there are others out here that share your pain and will pray that God will give you the courage to get thru one day at a time…
I left a message on this site on 8th December, and didnt leave my email address, but in going through this vile time in my life have realised that there is not really anyone out there to help aside from those who have experienced a tragic loss. And therefore I am happy to help you if I can.
It is now three months this Friday since my beloved Derek was killed and the time has now come for me to return to work. Please make this your decision and not well meaning folk who think you need to move on. I have done nothing but grieve and deal with paperwork, and for the first time in my life since starting wok at 17 have been home for longer than two weeks and it really feels like a week and not 12 weeks. I still cant bear to be patted or cuddled it stifles me, and I am angry with Derek for leaving me in this mess. We had no children so I feel that there is nothing for me except my memories. When I read your stories I am shocked all over again for your loss and I can only offer you my freindship across the water as I live in the UK. Please take your time and if you are not ready to work then dont. I am here if you want to chat. Carole