When you’re a couple in a family, there are things that are no brainers. Who will run to the grocery store, who will pick up the kids, who will help with the kids’ outings and clubs? There are two of you. Together, you can divide and conquer.

When one of the two is dying, you can prepare for many things. But you can’t prepare for the small stuff, the little daily things that together you handled, handled even joyfully: those little no brainers.

There have been many days that would have been a no brainer since my husband’s death.

Just an example: Sam’s Cub Scout den is having a bike ride on the local biking paths through the city parks. It will serve as a fulfillment for one of his little badges. It’s a lovely day. It is a great day for a bike ride. For me, though, it is a stressful day. The bike path the den mothers chose to ride on is a good distance from my house. I cannot ride the distance on my bike and then complete the ride.

So all week, I thought about how will I get the bikes in my car. All week, I planned to try to fit the puzzle of bikes and boys into my wagon. All week, I avoided it. All week, I shoveled it to the back of my head.

Finally, today, I try to put the bikes in the car. They don’t fit. No bike ride with the cubbies. Disappointment is felt all around the house. Sam can’t go. I’ve let him down again. We all just fester in our own pain.

If Dave were still alive, it would be a no brainer. We’d throw the bikes in his truck (no Dave, no company truck anymore) and drive to the park, or we’d have two cars to drive; one for bikes. one for people. Or, even better, Dave would throw the bikes in his truck and take off with the boys while I’d get an afternoon of solitude!

Those days are gone. Sometimes, I just wish people could understand how huge this is. I never saw it before Dave died. No brainers become failures and days that I am just so disappointed in myself. I get so mad that my spouse is gone, I can hardly see straight.

I’m sure there are thousands of other ways I could have handled this day. The fact still remains that on most days, my husband’s death is still like an open wound.

I miss the magic of the way we worked together.  I miss the ebb and flow, the give and take, the differences between us that made us such a good team. I miss the no brainers.

Christine Thiele 2010

Tags: Depression, grief, hope