Grief Brain? Me?

NOTE: I want to thank Melanie De Simone for her helpful post: Grief Brain: It’s a Real Thing!

I was sitting in the pew waiting for Wednesday evening prayer meeting to start.  My middle son, Josef,  and I had gotten there early to set up for the video we would be watching.  Since the rest of my family is out of town right now, Josef and I (and Kiska our fierce German Shepherd), have been eating lots of ice cream, watching old movies and keeping a pretty relaxed schedule.

So, Josef and I are sitting there enjoying the quietness of the church building as the warm summer sun streams through the windows, (which I really ought to get up and clean – I forgot to bring the Windex again?), waiting for the others to arrive.  Josef declines to play a game of ping pong with me.

Seven o’clock comes and goes.  I am wondering what is keeping everyone and begin to think about becoming irritated.  I really appreciate punctuality.  church sign Proof.ashx

Then, slowly, I come to the realization that I must consider the possibility that I have arrived early for Wednesday prayer meeting but that it is not Wednesday.  That it might be, in fact, Tuesday.

How can I verify this?  I do not have a cell phone.  I could walk across the street to the library and check on one of their computers, but, if it is Wednesday, then the others might come while I am gone.  Plus, I might have to answer a lot of questions over at the library.  It completely slipped my mind that if it was actually Tuesday, the library would not even be open.  A closed library would have proven it to be Tuesday, but I did not think of that.

I could go outside and ask a passerby what day it is.  But that would just confirm any latent suspicion that might be floating around regarding my state of mind.

I am beginning to feel a little foolish now.  If today is Tuesday and not Wednesday, how will I explain to someone from church who might spot me as I leave and ask me what I’m doing at church on a Tuesday night?  I am getting uncomfortable as I think about my daughter finding out.  Would she become concerned about me being out without supervision?  No, she would not.  She would laugh.  Very hard.

I am finally forced to admit to myself that I do not have any idea what day it is.  I have narrowed it down to Tuesday or Wednesday, but it is a ten mile drive back home so I really need to get this pinned down rather soon.

I cannot go wandering the streets asking people what day it is.  There is no land line at the church.  No radio.  I do not wear a watch.  Do I start packing up the DVD player?  What if it is Wednesday and somebody comes while I am coiling up the extension cord?  Or getting into my car to leave?

I really need to know right now what day it is.

I look around the auditorium.  Pulpit, piano, pews, bulletin board, hymn books, oil heater stove.  Aha.  The timer on the oil stove will have the date on it, but will it tell me what day it is?  I squint over the top of my bifocals and bend over to read the digital display and, what do you know, right next to the date and time in the lower left corner of the little, tiny, wonderful screen, there it is: “Tu”.

I straighten up, push my glasses back, pack up my stuff and, after promising Josef ice cream when we get home, try to decide if I will share my funny little story with the folks at church tomorrow night.

That is, if tomorrow is Wednesday.

UPDATE:  Wednesday morning, June 14, 2017 – I can’t find my purse.

UPDATE: Wednesday night – Found the purse.  I left it at the church on Tuesday.


8 thoughts on “Grief Brain? Me?

  1. Lyn Lee

    Wow, I am not alone! I’ve had brain fog for 25 years. I have grieved that long; I don’t remember conversations with my husband, he gets really irritated with me about this. He says I don’t listen to him. I had no idea that it was brain fog. My doctor diagnosed me with Fibromyalgia, and she said it was due to prolonged grief!!! I had no idea it could cause this!!! She gave me a book about it so I read or for myself. What an eye opener. I lost my beautiful daughter Chelsea on August 11, 1997, and it still seems like yesterday at times. My life as I knew it stopped that day. She was 8 when she went to Heaven, my life as I knew it ended that day.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I am so sorry, Lyn, for the loss of your beautiful Chelsea. While there are a number of physical conditions that can contribute to brain fog, it is, for many of us, definitely a part of the grief process as well. I pray the Lord will lead you to whatever help is available to you to lift the fog. Stay close to Him and He will lead you through.


    1. Jackie, I am so very sorry for the loss of your Joshua – the pain is so obliterating in those first weeks and months. It seems like the storm of grief is fiercest at the beginning, just wiping out everything in its path. I pray the Lord will hold you up as you face each fresh wave of sorrow.


  2. I live in a fog. All the time. It’s very frustrating. Ten days after I delivered my stillborn daughter I left my purse in a friend’s car with windows partially down on a hot day. We went for a walk and while gone, someone stole my purse. I felt so stupid.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Dear sweet mother, I am so very sorry for the loss of your precious daughter. I still have these foggy periods, too. Much of the time I feel like I am on the outside of my life looking in. But lucid moments happen a lot, too – it just requires so much effort sometimes. It is early in your journey and I know the pain is tremendous. I wish there were some way to share this load with you. Just know you are not stupid by any means and you are definitely not alone.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Hi Kim, loved your post. My wife and I are both 72 and this happens to us more than we’d like to admit. We do exactly what you do, see the humour in it. When we can’t seem to locate the car in a parking lot, I’m always appreciative that we remember that we have a car. We were laughing about this the other day. I then asked her who she was and what was she doing in my apartment as a joke. Blessings!

    Liked by 1 person

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