When Grief Visits in the Target Aisle
No part of our lives goes untouched when we’re coping with a significant loss. I was reminded of this over the weekend during a trip to Target.
Target has become a complicated place for me since my sister died (and believe me, I did not expect this; grief is such a strange and gnarly thing). I love my Target visits - browsing the aisles is one of my favorite things to do when I need a distraction - but I’ve learned that there are a few things I need to be prepared for. These are the things I now have to tell myself to get through a trip to Target:
Never, ever visit the “for her” section in the greeting card aisle. You will see all the sister cards and suddenly find yourself unable to breathe.
Proceed with caution through the seasonal section, unless you are ready for instant reminders of all the upcoming holidays and seasons that Seester won’t see.
Be aware that you will have the urge to text her every time you see something she would love, something that reminds you of her, something that is cute, or something that is ridiculous. Yes, even when the school supplies come out in the middle of summer and you’re remembering the giddiness you both felt around new fancy pens and Trapper Keepers.
Be prepared for the very distinct possibility that you will see something that Seester would love, pick it up and plan to buy it for her, and then remember that she is dead. Be prepared for the lump in your throat, for the sting of tears, and for the heaviness and sadness that you will feel as you put it back on the shelf.
Recently I found myself in a different Target than the one I usually shop at, and with it came a whole new set of challenges. The layout reminded me so much of the Target in Asheville where my sister and I would go. Suddenly there I was, catapulted back in time, browsing items with her in the bargain section and pushing her wheelchair through the aisles after her brain surgery. And suddenly, there I was - forgetting how to breathe, talking to myself to try and soothe my nerves, closing my eyes and audibly taking deep breaths right next to the bedding and cookware.
Even a trip to Target isn’t the same as it used to be.
I miss being someone who can shop at Target without crying. I hate that a place that used to be nothing but fun and frivolity has now become a danger zone. Is it the biggest challenge of my grief? Certainly not. But it’s one of a hundred things and spaces that are harder as a grieving person.
We tend to talk a lot about the big shifts in our lives that grief creates: the holidays without our loved ones, the missed milestones and celebrations, the future partners and kids that our people will never meet.
But grief lives in the small spaces too, and sometimes those are the ones that can take us most by surprise. (By the way, having grief waves hit in stores - especially grocery stores - is incredibly common. If you ever see an abandoned cart at the store, there’s a chance it was left by someone who couldn’t finish their shopping trip because it was all too much.) Pay attention to what activates your grief, and also know that sometimes it’s going to surprise you no matter how many guidelines and shopping trip rules you put into place.
It’s okay to miss the person you used to be and to wish that the little things that used to feel easy didn’t feel so hard. The old you is one more thing you may need to grieve when you are sitting with loss.
