Connection and Discord

After losing CJ, something odd happened. I found that the places that I shared with CJ became either a connection or a painful reminder that left me out of sorts and in a state of discord. Like notes in a song played out of tune. It seems like it is one or the other, no in between.

Grocery Stores. I truly and completely hate grocery stores. I am not sure why it became that way. CJ and I didn't shop together, or we hadn't for years. I didn't get groceries near his home so it wasn't a geographic issue. It seems odd, but each aisle has a memory associated with it. But the worst is the candy aisle. Every time I did go shopping I would text CJ and ask him what treat he wanted that week for our weekly get together. I avoid the candy aisle as much as I can, and when I find myself there by accident, I take deep breaths, keep my head down, and get out of there as fast as I can.

As painful as the grocery store is, the theatre is my safe, secure, memory filled place. CJ and I shared a love of movies, especially the superhero movies. We spent many hours there, and it was both a connection then and it is a connection now. I get my popcorn, I put my feet up, and I wait for the lights to go down. Its then that I feel CJ's spirit occupy the seat beside me, watching with me, and reminding me of some of the best times in our life.

Blue Mountain is painful. I am not sure I will ever be able to go back there. I went there once, about a year after CJ had died. I was staying on the outskirts of town, so I didn't really feel that I was there. Then we took a drive to town. It was overwhelming. The memories assaulted me. They were all beautiful and all good, but it was too much. My senses were overloaded. A memory came to mind of one day CJ and I were skiing. CJ of course was way ahead of me, skiing with ease and grace I never did achieve :). When we were at the bottom of the lift, I let CJ go for a run on his own, and said I would sit this one out. A stranger came up to me out of the blue to say something about learning to let go. I remember that now in retrospect - oh how it hurts to let him go.

And the strangest connection of all - water. I am never more at peace than when I am near water. Sitting by the ocean in Florida. Sipping wine on a porch in Niagara, looking out over Lake Ontario. Walking by the grand, and watching the water flow. The water took my son from me, but near water, his spirit is there. It gives me a sense of peace. I am so glad that his death did not take that from me. He loved water. I feel that when I am near it. With the water I feel the greater connection to the universe and all that he sees now.