My soul remembers what my brain cannot

I believe that every event in your life, from your birth to your death, is important; that the soul never forgets anything, even if the brain doesn't remember.

I have no scientific proof to back up my belief, all I have is my personal experiences.

When I was a very little girl my family went through a really rough time. My uncle committed suicide. My mother's mother died of pancreatic cancer. My father's step mom died in a car crash and within a short period of time, my father's dad passed away too. To top it off, my dad lost his job and we were forced to move several times in only a couple years.

My brain remembers none of this. I don't have a single, conscious or even semi-defined memory of any of those events.

All I have is feelings.

During my years growing up, I felt as if I had a hole in me. I missed my grandparents deeply. People would say "Isn't it sad, you never knew your grandma" or grandpa or uncle. As I got older, I decided that must be why I missed them: I never knew them. But that wasn't why I missed them.

I'd never really missed my dad's REAL mom. She'd died when my dad was little, decades before I was born. I never knew her.

I missed them because I HAD known them and now they were gone. One day they were there, and then they weren't.

At my mom's funeral I watched my 2 year old niece as she looked at my mom in the casket. "She's dead." She said, almost crying. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I had been her age when my mom's mom had died. Watching her that night I realized that I had been at 4 funerals around her age, feeling those same emotions, trying to come to terms with what was going on.

People probably used the same phrases with me that we did with my nieces and nephews. "She's in heaven now." "She went to be with Jesus." Like my nephew did I wonder why we couldn't go see Jesus too? Did I realize that heaven wasn't somewhere they could come back from? Did I keep hoping to see them at family gatherings and feel confused when they didn't show up?

Eventually my brain forgot those funerals, my dad losing his job, and even most of the moves (I vaguely remember the last one). Once someone told me that it was a good thing I was so little when all that happened and I don't remember it. At the time I agreed. Now I wonder. My brain may have forgotten, but part of me still remembers.

I've heard child development experts say the first 3 years of a child's life are the most formative years. They FORM who the child will be and much of their view on the world. The first 3 years of my life were full of funerals, moving, grief, fighting and stress.

I can't help wonder if it's because of those events that as a teenager I just assumed I would die shortly (I wasn't suicidal--I had no plans to kill myself, I just didn't think I'd live long enough to get married or have a family). Maybe it's because of those events that while I hope for the best, I always plan for the worst. Could it be that moving so many times in my early childhood is why I always feel restless and have searched for somewhere to call "home" my whole life? (I could never call the city we ended up in "home" even though I lived there much of my life). Does the fact I have back up plans for my back up plans financially stem from that time?

Even if I can't consciously remember those events, they still defined my life.

Today my soul reminded me again it hasn't forgotten. My best friend's grandpa died this morning. I have been full of grief all day. I'm sad for her, wishing I could be next to her supporting her. I'm sad for me, I miss my mom. He died of the same cancer as my mom did and memories have surfaced I wish I could forget. Surprisingly, I also felt a pang of grief for my grandpa--the grandpa I can't remember. I miss him and mourn him today too. I desperately wish he were here today.

If only what my brain remembered mattered, then I couldn't mourn his loss because I don't remember him ever being here.

I can't remember his face outside of the pictures I've seen. I don't remember what his voice sounded like, or how he smelled or even anything we did together.

According to my brain, he never existed as a tangible part of my life.

But I miss him. I have a desire to climb on his lap (which I couldn't do even if he were alive--I'm a little too big for that now). I wish I could be wrapped in his arms and know he loved me. I feel like something is missing in my life and if he came back, that feeling would leave.

Some may say I'm crazy. Others may want proof. I don't need scientific proof. My life is proof enough.

My soul remembers what my brain cannot.