Tomorrow I will step back into a place that has so many memories and only today did it hit me. Why? 

Its odd, there has been quite a few moments in the past 18 months that I’ve decided to return to places that had Mike memories etched into them. But it’s not until a few days before or a few hours before that my brain refocuses and I get that nauseous feeling and the lump in my throat, wondering how I will feel and how my body will react to these memories being potentially relived in my mind. 

 A few weeks ago I saw that Chris O’Brien Lifehouse in Sydney had a event on that I was interested in attending. I sent a message and received an invite. Not until today when I was in a meeting did I even put the two together but I was stepping back into the place where I spent so much of Mikes illness. As soon as I began to think about it, I got into my car and burst into tears, remembering everything about that building, and it occurred to me I haven’t been back there in over 2 years.  

This took me back to a place where I felt I needed to prepare myself for what Friday was going to do and what emotions it would bring up. Firstly, how do I know? Am I just worrying about something that will not happen?

But as I close my eyes, I can picture walking through the automatic doors at the front entrance and into the vast lobby, tilting my head up to see the floors above and the super high ceiling. Waiting for the glass elevator that has to be one of the quickest I’ve experienced (maybe they did this on purpose to give you less time to get to your level). The smell of the hospital, the bright lit cafe to the left, and the numerous people you walk past, wondering in your mind, why are they there. There was always a coldness in the air, no matter how warm it was outside, I always felt chilly in there. I can picture all the locations for the hand sanitiser. I still have memorised what services were on each floor. Why does my brain hold onto this information still? 

I guess in a way, I’ve tried to forget some of those memories, the sensory ones at least, as they are the ones that run so deep. But they all came flooding back to me in that immediate moment. I could picture walking through the doors on a cold evening, finishing work with a bag of food, my favourite blanket and looking forward to seeing Mike. Although the hospital provided dinners, Mikes appetite was very particular and so I would bring some take away food each night, along with a green smoothie for him and some fresh ginger tea. I couldn’t stand the thought of him eating alone so we would eat together, and I even brought plates and cutlery from my kitchen to make it feel less hospitalised. After dinner each night we would curl up in his hospital bed (the bonus of being so small) tucked in under the blanket and watch House of Cards or Suits. Unfortunately the hospital during Mikes stay stopped free WiFi access or television channels so it actually meant a lot to him to be able to watch these shows. And it became our thing. It still amazes me that is was a hospital wide decision to end free WiFi for its visitors and Freeview television. Some of these patients would have no access to the outside world during treatment and this decision stopped that interaction more. We would sip on ginger tea and talk about my day and what he wanted to do when he got out of hospital. I haven’t to this day been able to watch House of Cards again.  

Friday is going to to be another big step in my healing, and acknowledging that it could be hard is ok too.

I may walk in there and have to walk straight out, I may not even get to the front door at all, and that’s ok too.

Some memories and emotions take longer to settle. It reminds me that I do still miss Mike, and even though my life has changed in so many ways, those memories will remain. And as shown, not always at the front of mind but a little trigger can bring them back for a while.

However, if I don’t put myself in these situations again, I will never know. So here goes, stepping into the pain, let’s see where it takes me...