on the bubble

We’re just a few days back from visiting B’s mom in Springfield, Missouri. We had a wonderful time with Joyce. The kids are amused by Joyce’s happy hour hosting, where we reconnected each night with many of her friends who have also become our friends over the years, and also got to see Chuck, one of B’s friends from high school. The trip was yet another of many firsts, being back in a city that is now familiar, but only because of Bart’s bringing me into his wonderful family.

A highlight of visiting Springfield has always been going to Silver Dollar City in Branson, a themed amusement park in the character of an old frontier town in the Ozarks. The park has rides and shows, big hills, and lots of people dressed in what must be painfully hot frontier-wear. When the kids were little we went to SDC (almost?) every year, and we have pictures our family and Amy’s family in some of the same spots each visit. I have to admit that i’ve missed Silver Dollar City over the past 3-4 years that I haven’t been to Springfield, and was looking forward to going.

We started with the famous ‘Fire in the Hole,’ a small roller coaster that ends in water, then onto American Plunge, which we rode twice before the crowds built up. Everything felt different, though, and it’s not just because I was missing B. I’m used to arriving at the park amid a flood of people, but feeling us in our own excited bubble, connected energetically by our own story and collective buoyancy. Even when separated to go to different rides or get everyone ice cream, we were connected by text or an expectation of where to meet up. I never noticed it until it was missing, but now I see that that, without B, our energetic bubble has popped, and we are still working on rebuilding it.

Instead, this time at SDC, I felt small and jostled, like we were three small beings in a see of Others, trying to remember our way through the park. I’m used to staying late into the day, and then rushing across the park for one last ride, no maybe one more last ride, before we drag ourselves back down the hill and through the tunnel, exhausted and hungry for real food while remembering all of our moments of thrill. But this time, by 2:15 we were so tired and spaced out that we decided we had done Silver Dollar City.

On the 45 minute drive back I reflected on the energetic drain it was to be in a public place, especially one with so many memories, without B. I had this same feeling wandering the halls at kids’ events at the school - where, before B died, I felt like just another parent, but since, I felt like a tiny a pod in the sea of bustling people. I would leave these events puzzled - why did I feel so drained and lost? Wasn’t this all familiar? Surely I had been to these same places before without B.

I know it may sound strange for the less-energetically inclined, but I am relieved to come across a diagnosis for this feeling. Our family’s bubble has popped, and we are still establishing the new energetic cell that combines the three of us. Seeing our big strong anchor become physically weak connected me to the fragility of life; yet when B was still here, even when he was sick, we still had our bubble. The energetic glue that surrounded our family sealed us together, even when we were apart. I wonder if losing this bubble is part of the reason many people feel so tired when they are going through grief; living is more work without this energetic seal. I suspect that we all have many bubbles, but with our nuclear family being the strongest.

Of course the kids and me are still connected to each other, maybe even more than before, but our bubble of three is still forming into our new unit. Being in Springfield without B was harder than expected. And yet, we had a wonderful time and feel reassured that our connections continue even without B there to unite us. These experiences help us to discover each day that we can live on. Each day we are rebuilding our bubble. I can see it forming, and now that I understand about the bubble, I feel more hopeful about where we will land.

Does anyone know what I’m talking about?

Peace and love,

NW

Nancy Wise4 Comments