Let me start by saying, I have done absolutely no scientific research on this, but here's the deal:
Grief is a form of brain damage.
My memory is so tuned into remembering him and remembering us that a lot of things seem to be pushed aside. If I don't write it down it either didn't happen or it's a future thing that won't happen. I've always been a list maker, but this is ridiculous. I cannot remember how to do things. Things I should know how to do - like open a safe deposit box account. I almost had a panic attack the other day and had to ask a co-worker for help doing something I've done on my own many times before. So embarrassing. Another thing, my drivers license number and our bank's routing number have the same first three digits. Only until recently have I had to be very careful that I am giving a customer the routing number and not my DL.
Also, it seems like I cannot figure anything out on my own. Tonight when my Netflix locked up and I couldn't get my Dish Network to work I absolutely couldn't figure it out on my own. First, I was so overwhelmed and distraught because that sort of thing Derek would have had fixed in seconds.
Note: Bunny trail that has nothing to do with me not being able to figure stuff out:
One time when Derek was pretty young he got in trouble and was grounded from the TV in his room. His mom removed the cable box, but he figured out a way to lay his metal little school scissors across the inputs and get the antennae to work so he could watch "wras-ling" live from the Sport-a-torium.
Second, TV/Satellite/Modem/Routers are not my thing. You know what was wrong with my TV? Well, neither do I, BUT I had to have a friend, who was once my IT guy, call and talk me through figuring out that when I thought I was turning everything off to re-set, there was one device plugged in a different way that I didn't notice. I absolutely don't think I could have found that on my own, and I was crying and sniffling on the phone because I don't want to have to do this stuff on my own.
The TV thing is almost understandable, because as I said, that's not my area. But I am pretty dang handy. I can weld and I can crochet and I couldn't figure out how to put a little tiny screw in for some hinges on my project the other day. I had to post on Facebook for ideas and all the advice I got was something I already knew or normally would have realized on my own.
Oh, and I have even less patience than I did before. This is bad, because that is an area I've always struggled. If you are in front of me and the light changes and you don't punch it, I am probably talking about 'yo mama and envisioning ramming you. I don't have anywhere to be, but I want you to move the heck out of my way! I don't like that person, but I seem to have trouble controlling her.
Maybe that's out of fear of losing interest in driving or forgetting where I'm going, because not only is my memory basically toast, I have a super short attention span. I see more shiny objects now than I ever did before. The other night I was cooking supper and remembered the dryer had stopped. I wandered away to see if the towels were dry and then went back to the couch before I remembered the pan on the stove.
Dang. IT! I'm smart. No, really. I am. I pray this brain fog is not something that lasts a long time. I hope that all this is the brain's way of protecting itself from hard things, but I'll let you in on another secret...the hard things are still hard. As I wrote about when Dad passed away, it's not the things that you expect to be hard that get ya. Of course, they do, but it's those sneaky hard things like choosing an emergency contact on a form or closing his debit card or hearing a song on the radio, or trying to fix the TV that rip the rug from under you.
Once again, I am so thankful for my friends and family and even the dog. Keep those prayers, timely texts, funny memes, etc coming. I am trying, but I've got a long way to go.
