Just Another Trigger Moment

Julie Conn.

A second grade teacher at Holtville Elementary.

My home-away-from-home for twenty years.

She taught down the hall from me.

Always had a smile, a hug, a dear friend.

She came into Cute As A Button last week,

looking for an outfit for her newborn son.

I turned around to greet a customer,

and it was Julie. Jules. My Jules, from 'that time'.

My counselor calls these moments trigger moments.

When my throat closes, the headache begins,

speech becomes labored, my thought process jumbled.

I wanted to cry, to hold onto her, to be back there,

to be back in Room 33, beside Lisa,

across the hall from Jackie and Deborah;

to live at 204 Spruce, the home Johnny and I loved,

to have it all 'not have happened'.

So much rushed me at once

that for a moment, or two,

all I could do was stare at her.

And remember. And hurt.

We talked, we hugged, I saw the baby,

she left. I remembered.

And I grieved. And cried.

Will it ever.get.better?

Will I ever, ever get to the point

that it.won't.hurt?

Logic tells me the house at Spruce was too big,

too much upkeep for a disabled retiree.

But my heart tells me

had the accident not happened,

we would still be there. Still sitting in the swing,

on the deck John built, and I loved.

I would still be teaching next door to my best friend

and learning from seven and eight year old

angels in little children bodies. Do I miss the day to day

routine, the parental worries, the paperwork?

You bet I do. I always will. It was a passion. It was me.

Honestly, I don't know if it will ever get better.

It will be three years tomorrow.

We are in a new home.

Another new home, as a matter of fact.

And Life is different. As much as he tries,

and as much as they try,

and as much as I try,

it will always be different.

And God help me,

I want it back. There are times

I ache I literally ache,

to have Life the way it used to be.

My heart tells me I have much

to be thankful for; much to enjoy;

much to find delight in. And yes,

retirement has freed me up for other things,

and I cling to the understanding

that He never, ever, allows anything to happen

that He doesn't offer some means of bringing

Glory and Praise to His Name.

But my heart still breaks,

when those trigger moments occur.

So if I see you at some point, and you wonder

why I fumble, why tears slide, why I stare~

just know you have triggered a moment

for a past I miss with my whole heart.

And I continue telling myself,

it will get easier.

And then,

I go to my Jenny's family blog,

and she has this photograph of Noah.

And I read her words with the picture,

"Run, Forrest, run!"

And I laughed.

Through the tears brought from writing to you,

I laughed remembering what I had seen on her blog.

So I have brought it to you for your laughter.

God works in beautiful, mysterious ways.

"My soul doth magnify the Lord.
And my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour."

Go, Noah! "Run, Forrest, run!"