We Carry Them With Us

Posted in meditationTagged , , , , ,

“At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not in your life.” – Sandi Lynn

When I woke my daughter up last Friday for the last day of school, she had a frown. I thought perhaps it was just the fog of sleepiness still lifting but she told me otherwise.

“I was happy that it was the last week of school but I’m not happy that it is the last day. It’s not like you can ever go back.”

She didn’t want to leave her beloved 1st grade teacher. I thought the buildup and anticipation of summer would carry the day so I was caught off-guard, something fairly common for me as a parent.

The grief of the school year ending reminded me of a Ten Percent Happier podcast about the science of loss and grieving with Mary-Frances O’Connor, Associate Professor of Clinical Psychology at the University of Arizona. She talked about what happens when we bond with someone – it actually changes the brain so that we encode that person is special. In the brain imaging studies O’Connor recounted, yearning for someone lit up the part of the brain that is the reward center of the brain, the nucleus accumbens.

Her conclusion was that even when our memories tell us that something has changed – someone is gone, an experience has ended – even when we know all that, the part of our brain that was transformed when we bonded still lights up. In O’Connor’s example, when she goes to pick an Easter dress, she’s still impacted by her mother. She may pick the dress her mother would like or the one that her mother would hate, but either way her mother is still present.

This explanation resonated with me. It explains that warmth I get when I think of my dad putting his arm around me and saying “It’s going to be great, Kid!” Or the little skip in my step I experience when I hike a trail my beloved dog Biscuit liked and I think of how he’d run back and forth.

I’ve often said that the longer my dad is gone, the more that I feel him inside me as if I have to act out the parts that I used to rely on him playing. O’Connor’s research says that in a way, that is true because he lives on inside my brain. I’d say that same about my dog which is true but also I’ve always had a personality much like a golden retriever.

Knowing that I’ll always exist in my kid’s heads gives me a little perspective on what that voice should say. Is the soundtrack that wants them to pick up after themselves or the one that says that they are lovable, kind and capable of anything? I’m aiming for a little bit of the former but mostly the latter.

As we moved through this past weekend, my daughter kept asking, “what would I be doing at school now?” She was processing the experience of being done by remembering all her school activities and quoting her teacher to me. Knowing a little about the science of how we record things didn’t help me know what to say, but it did give me a lot of patience for her yearning.  

By the end of the weekend, my daughter said, “I’m so happy for the Kindergartners that will have my teacher next year.” To get to our new experience, we have to cross the threshold of leaving the old. But the bonds we formed in the old experience go with us.

41 thoughts on “We Carry Them With Us”

  2. “…even when our memories tell us that something has changed – someone is gone, an experience has ended – even when we know all that, the part of our brain that was transformed when we bonded still lights up.” Oh how grateful I am for these lasting transformations and the powerful memories that hold them. Beautiful and timely post, Wynne. Thank you!❤️

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I love this: To get to our new experience, we have to cross the threshold of leaving the old. But the bonds we formed in the old experience go with us. What a lovely thought. It reminds me of the saying, “We can’t discover new oceans until we are willing to lose sight of the shore.” And yes, wherever we go we take ourselves with us—along with all our beloved traveling companions along the way!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. What a lovely saying, Julia. Yes, we have to be willing to lose sight of the shore. Amen to that! And it’s hard to do when that shore has been good to us. Thank you for adding this to the post – a delightful insight!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. The brain is a wonderfully powerful and special thing isn’t it? It’s so wonderful your daughter got a truly special teacher this year. Those memories, and how it lights up her brain, are what makes school such a great experience for our kids. Hope she creates more happy memories this summer! 8 days to go for us!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. 8 more days!! Wuhoo!

      I like how you put it, Ab – “those memories..are what makes school such a great experience for our kids.” Yes. And thank goodness we can let them have these childhoods when they get to experience just being a kid!

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Beautifully said Wynne, “To get to our new experience, we have to cross the threshold of leaving the old. But the bonds we formed in the old experience go with us.”
    I can relate to, “I’ve often said that the longer my dad is gone, the more that I feel him inside me as if I have to act out the parts that I used to rely on him playing.”
    My dad left 31 years ago and not a day goes by without me thinking of him. But, I know he is in my heart so is my beloved grandad. I feel their presence. Especially, when I do things they have taught me, and when I am in need of guidance.
    I have this firm belief that whenever I sit down to write, my Papa (who wrote beautifully) looks over my shoulder and guides my fingers. Because I am often amazed at some of the words that magically appear on the screen that I don’t remember thinking or writing!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. What a lovely image of your Papa looking over your shoulder and guiding your fingers. I totally believe that they are there with you. It’s so magical isn’t it? And you write beautifully too, Chaya! 🙂 ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Your story reminds me of what the end of school was like in those years. It was common for the girls to crowd around the teacher and break down if she was a favorite. The boys displayed no such emotion. For myself, I was just happy the school year was over and summer was ahead. Miss O. sounds like a bright, interesting and thoughtful child. I’m not surprised.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. That’s so interesting about the girl/boy divide you describe. Did the girls have such a different experience or was it that it was okay for them to express it? Fascinating! Thank you for the kind comment about Miss O!

      Like

      1. Since this occurred in the early through middle grades (maybe until about 3rd or 4th grade) as best as I can recall at a long distance, your question is hard to answer. Also, at that point, the boys saw girls as alien creatures whose emotional life was way beyond me.

        But I would say generally, that boys learn fairly early they have to steel themselves against the kind of softness that would be seen by other boys as a kind of “kick me” sign: an invitation to belittlement in the “rough and tumble” of growing up. When I mentioned something about emotions to a long-time friend about 20 years ago, his response was “Did we have emotions?” He was being funny but honest.

        Nor was this a tough crowd — just an average grade school experience in the 1950s in a safe neighborhood where people had enough to eat and no racial tension.

        Liked by 1 person

  9. Thanks Wynne, wonderful post as usual. What great empathy your daughter has at such a young age.
    I also listened to a lot of the podcast and my biggest takeaway was that grieving is learning. I grieved heavily yesterday for my dad with it being the first father’s day without his physical presence. Yet for me every day is father’s day:)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What a wonderful comment, Victoria. Yes, the grieving is learning idea is a great takeaway. Thank you for adding that to this conversation.

      I’m so sorry about the loss of your father. I can relate to every day being father’s day – what a beautiful phrase you’ve used. May we all learn through that process that they are still with us, even if not in the way we’d prefer!

      Liked by 1 person

  10. Your daughter is a smart little girl. She sees what’s happening in front of her. Along the way I learned the saying that you have friends “for a reason, for a season, or for life.” I believe this is true and has made those moving on moments easier to understand.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh, I love that phrase, Ally. Such a great comment. I am tucking it away for the next time I need to help my kids through loss and transition. Thank you, my friend!

      Liked by 1 person

  11. Your kid is amazing and I love the way you think Wynne. I’m so glad for the experiences we have with certain people who effect our lives. I can’t personally recall all of my teachers in school or what I thought about them but I remember important people in my life who’ve taught me things… like my grandfather. I’ll be in the middle of working on my farm and a thought will pop into my mind that says “I wonder what he would think of me now”. So to read your words that these people change us on a cellular level makes me feel that you’re spot on. We carry them with us indeed 🥰

    Liked by 1 person

      1. He had 20 acres in Arizona and was the most incredible gardener. If he saw my farm and how far it’s come… he would be “tickled pink” (something he always said when he was elated) 🥰 so yes, I know the answer.

        Liked by 1 person

  12. I see your daughter is picking up on how you process life! Change is always difficult to accept, on one level or another, even when we anticipate it, for there’s always something we leave behind. I love how you and your daughter are focusing on the positives in the situation! You’re teaching her resiliency in life!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. What a generous comment, Tamara. I’d say she teaches me just as much as I teach her – and mostly just to keep my mouth shut and observe because kids have such a way, don’t they?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. They truly do! Keeping ones mouth shut as a parent is much harder than it sounds! So that’s positive too! 😬

        Liked by 1 person

  13. Your post made me think about lasting impressions. They can be positive or negative. It’s important to be mindful of the impact we are having on others, because as you stated … we will live on inside of their brains. Like you, I experience that with my dad too who has been gone for 5 years. What he taught me and the essence of who he was lives on in me. Same with my grandmother. Great post, Wynne. Thank you.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Lasting impressions – that says it so well, Nancy! You are so right – they can be positive or negative. I love that you live with your dad and grandmother guiding you too!

      Like

    1. Aww, what a sweet comment. I suspect she was really attached to 1st grade and her teacher because it was essentially her first year in the classroom since her Kindergarten experience was mostly remote. What a weird ride it has been.

      Like

  16. How much we can learn from children, especially if we’re like you : patient and able to listen more than we speak. When my granddaughter was five, she took on the job of my life coach, giving me good advice on everyday problems like breathing, sleeping, friendship, grief, and zombies coming up the toilet. Your daughter is a wise one.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m laughing about the zombies coming up the toilet, Rachel. What are we supposed to do about those exactly? What a wonderful grandmother you must be to have listened to all her suggestions and ideas – building her confidence along with your relationship! How special!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Apparently we should line up our Barbies in a row, because Zombies hate Barbies. “They’re afraid they will chomp them.” Or you can shine a torch on them, and it injects them and they die. Word for word, I kid you not.

        Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.