Transition

Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash

Today I got the courage after many failed attempts to go through Brynn’s closet. The goal was to sort out her clothes of what I would be donating to Dress for Success vs. other plans.  

I had tried a few times over the last couple of months but was never able to get past opening of the door part. Partly I was afraid of the change I would be introducing to my life that I was not ready for, and another part felt like I was emotionally cheating on Brynn as the act represented moving forward with my life. It’s an interesting perspective and feeling you develop about life, loss, and continuation after such traumatic experience of losing someone you love. But the guilt you have about being able to go on another day eventually starts transitioning to being thankful for the opportunity to do so, as I’m discovering. As I reflect on the several months since, I’ve had some trying times. Anger was a primary emotion coupled with indifference about life, love and the world I was living in. Indifference is a much scarier part of the many emotions I have experienced throughout this period. As I do slowly move on to a new path, it does come with reflection of my state of mind over this period of transition, and the reminder of my careless attitude about life and the world, shortly after watching Brynn fight so hard to hold on to her’s she loved living.

As I come back to today, I am surprised by the experience being more positive than I had pondered and visualized, spending moments dreading going through such task. I went down many memory lanes as I remembered when she wore a particular piece, bringing up a moment in time: a laugh, a feeling or a wonderful anecdote. It is amazing the amount of energy a piece of shirt or dress can hold... by the stories it tells, the feelings and memories it conjures. 

One of the hardest parts of this entire process has been continuing to live in a house that was built by the two of us. It was never mine nor Brynn’s house to begin with. It was always ours. Majority of the house was put together through our shared involvement; the style and energy reflected us collectively. The house only knew the two of us in it - the uncontrollable laughs, fights, the cries, and the confluence of emotions that were driven by the highs, lows and the normalcy of our relationship. All the moments that turned into memories of a lifetime. I always thought the hard part would be living with those memories as I continue on with my life. But as time goes by, I’m realizing the hard part is coming to terms that I am not going to be able to create new ones with Brynn. What makes a relationship so special and unique are the shared experiences and memories you get to have. And as I continue to go through her clothes, I can’t help wonder about what could’ve been. The writings of new stories that will never be. My only hope is that whoever ends up with the clothes will create new ones. Taking them on a different path and developing new memories in them without knowing the journey they had been on. Life is never static, and I find happiness knowing these clothes will eventually experience something new, instead of hanging in the closest and remain a moment in time. Just like the house and me in it. And just like the memories, as they evolve with me and take on new meanings.   

One of the piece of clothing I’ve decided to hold on is the very last dress she had worn to our friends’ wedding. This photo was taken approximately a month before she decided to transition to her next journey. She was worn down, 40lbs lighter and struggling physically and emotionally. But that day defined Brynn. It was everything I loved about her: the fighter that she was pushing through the most difficult of times; the pain; the fear of uncertainty, but yet approaching with so much fortitude and grace. She wanted to be there, not because she felt obligated, but because she wanted to celebrate our friends as they transitioned into the next chapter of their lives, and give her mother a hug in person for her birthday. All other elements of our life did not matter at that moment as she remained present.  

Part of the ongoing relationship with Brynn is that transition from her being present with me to me being with her presence. It’s a very difficult thing to accept as you tightly hold on to what you had instead of wondering about what the future holds and the new possibilities. We are both explorers at heart, searching through our physical, emotional, and intellectual journeys. And these discoveries in my home life are helping reignite a side of me that I was so afraid that had left with Brynn.       

As I was cleaning out the shelves in her closet, I came across a booklet that had some of her writings. The first page I opened started with a General George Patton quote: 

“Success is how high you bounce back after you hit rock bottom.” 

Thank you, my love... as you continue to look after me, pushing and pulling me along my journey. You continue to be with me, but more importantly a part of me. 

I took out one last bag that had been tucked away in the closet, I opened it up and it was her Allbirds shoes that I absolutely hated with passion, along with many failed coup attempts to “over throw” them away. The plastic bag itself was the one that had her belongings, including these shoes, I had brought back from the hospital the very last trip home that morning - a sentence difficult to write. But opening the bag and seeing the shoes for the first time in months brought a big smile to my face, because of the many humorous stories they would be able to tell and remembering the mischievous grin she would have on her face as she would put them on much to my disdain. Perhaps that’s what healing is supposed to feel like... 

-Troy