This past Thursday, I had the pleasure of joining a good friend for an evening of dinner and schmoozing at a fancy benefit dinner. The event was the CABIA Annual Benefit dinner, and that is the Chattanooga Area Brain Injury Association. Suffice it to say that everyone in that room (all 150+) were in some way touched by brain injury. If you'd like a slap in the face of the reality around you, attending a dinner such as this would be a great way to do so.
Jere sent me a message Tuesday, asking me to attend the dinner with him. He was worried it was too short notice, though I remembered that I was supposed to have the event on my calendar in the first place. I arranged a babysitter, and told him I'd be there. I remember sending a message back to him asking what the attire would be. His response: "wear pearls and comfortable shoes." It seems I never get a typical response from Jere.
I realized I hadn't worn a dress in ages. I guess the last time I wore one was graduation night, and that was only briefly enough to get to the event and back home. I am not a dress person, but it seemed that the evening would be a reason to delve into something new. Tuesday evening, after class, I hit the clothing stores looking for a dress.
The other task was interesting: I did ask my boyfriend if it was ok that I attended a swanky dinner with another man. This seemed to be a strange question, because it was an all-around weird situation. Jere was "another man," but it was definitely different with him. He was a good friend, a kindred spirit, and it was a different type of relationship from the normal "other men" that are out there. Travis said he could have me for twenty bucks... I am thankful I am dating an understanding man. :-)
On Thursday, I finished work and took off down the interstate. I remember curling my hair and changing clothes between classes! I knew that even if I left at 3pm, I would barely make it to the dinner in time. I pulled up to the location, The Mill in Chattanooga, and saw Jere wandering around the parking lot.
Jere looked whimsically dapper. He was cleaned up, with a dress shirt, tie, and coat. I was entertained with how the colors did not match, but complemented each other so well. It gave him the look of an absent-minded professor, but made him absolutely charming at the same time. He gave me the once over, and told me I looked splendid. We went inside to check in and find our table.
Through the evening, we talked with many people who have themselves dealt with brain injury. The whole experience made me realize how little I talk about the subject. I guess even though I have wanted to interview people and write about it, the whole experience to me is just something I need to suck up and deal with. I guess I feel like rehashing all of my feelings over and over again will just waste time. I do know better of this now, and realize there is a tremendous amount of support around me, if I am willing to ask. I met a woman that has almost no short-term memory, and always meets someone new (even when she has met you twenty times before). I met a few people that shared physical disabilities along with their brain injuries. We sat with a couple that actually met, dated and married AFTER the brain injury had occurred (which gave me hope). All in all, it was an absolutely wonderful evening.
The speaker was a lawyer from Atlanta that had suffered a brain injury in 2004, after a car accident. He talked about reach out to those around you, and to spreading knowledge of brain injury. Everyone knows what concussions are, but very few people understand the effects of brain injury, and that the recovery is life-long. There are so many people that are so very lucky to be alive, but that doesn't mean they aren't still pushing and clawing their way through life. Recovery is never meant to be easy, and a life-long recovery can be grueling.
After hearing him speak, we said our goodbyes to those around us. Jere and I made small talk all the way to the parking lot, where he asked me if I would be able to drive home. I told him I should be ok, as I let out a yawn. He told me I needed coffee, and that we would grab a quick cup of coffee before I hit the road. I got in my car to follow him, and we drove through the streets of Chattanooga, in search of liquid energy.
Following Jere through the streets of Chattanooga is like following him in any conversation. He is incredibly intelligent and quick-witted, but he also makes connections and turns that most people don't see. Trying to keep up with him leaves me mentally exhausted. I was relieved when we pulled into the parking spots at the Bluff Art District. We would be visiting Rembrandt's, the coffee shop where we first met and talked.
I did a quick mental calculation, and realized it was just about one year ago that we made our first trek to the coffee shop. I didn't say a word, because I knew that this tidbit was probably irrelevant. We got out of the cars and walked to the shop. I am always entertained by the glances and fake smiles we receive when walking about town together--it must look strange to see a white-haired sixty-one year-old with a young, thirty year-old brunette. I chuckled to myself, because those people didn't realize that this wasn't some strange relationship they read about in the tabloids. This was the meeting of good friends, ready to connect and share their life experiences over coffee.
Inside, I ordered a cup of coffee and a dessert, and he did the same. We sat down at the table and began to chat while our order was being prepared. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was ready to get down to the real conversation. It's hard to be ourselves in front of all of those people. As much as we make sense to each other, I believe our conversation would seem odd in front of an audience.
He asked me about my experience in court earlier that day. I told him about the drudgery of dealing with child support court, and he commented that he expected sparks to fly and fire to come from my eyes when I spoke of my ex-husband. I told him that honestly, he wasn't worth that much energy anymore. There are bigger and better things ahead of me, and those thoughts would only hold me back.
We moved on to talk about brain injury. I couldn't tell if my thoughts were coherent at that point, but he seemed to understand. He always seems to understand what I am saying, even when I am not quite sure I am saying real words. I tell him how frustrating it is to deal with the recovery, how I have great days where I feel like I am the "old me," and then many other days where I can't even remember who the "old me" was. My frustrations are with my processing speed, my memory, and my indifference to the people around me on any given day. I know that all of these are valid complaints for someone with a traumatic brain injury, but I still don't like it. I know the biggest part of me that hasn't recovered is my spirit, because I am still grieving the person I thought I was before the accident.
I say that because sometimes I become confused. Sometimes I wonder if I am remembering who I once was, or if I am having thoughts of who I always wanted to be. And since everyone around me seems to want to cut me a lot of slack, I have to depend on myself to remember what life was like before. And Jere, bless his heart, worries I don't get enough sleep and give my body enough time to heal. I know he's right, but I still feel like I am making up for lost time. Every day, I wake up and go to bed feeling that way. Sometimes I take it in stride, and sometimes it terrifies me.
Toward the end of our conversation, we talk about writing together again. The whole reason we ever came together was because I was writing, and he was someone I needed to interview. This evolved into him helping me write, then a joint effort. Through the year we have both gone through peaks and valleys, and our writing effort has suffered. This evening was a time that we could make plans to write, and to make a commitment to finally doing something about it.
Eventually, the coffee and dessert were gone, and I realized I had an almost-two hour drive home. We walked out of the shop, and down the street. He told me about how his house was going on the market, and he would be moving to North Carolina. I could feel my heart stop, because I wasn't liking the idea of him moving so far away. It's not like we see each other even weekly, but I like knowing he's only a few hours away anytime I've needed to chat.
We walked to our cars, parked on top of the bridge, and turned to say our goodbyes. He grabbed me and pulled me close to hug me, and I felt the stress of the day fade away. He told me how much he leaned on me, and I almost cried when I thought about how much I have leaned on him over the past year. I honestly owed much of my success in this past year to how grounded he has made me feel. Having someone who has been to hell and back, for just about the same reason, can make the world of difference. Being able to say whatever I want, whenever I want, and knowing he has felt the same way makes a big difference in dealing with issues. And knowing that whenever I try to convince myself of something, he will be there to call me out on my BS and push me to find the truth. THAT is the mark of a special relationship. Whatever happens from here on out, I know that this has been a truly magical time for me.
I also had a brief moment where I wondered if the people driving below had looked up to see us. I wondered what they saw while driving--a man with silvery hair, holding a young woman for dear life, on top of a moonlit bridge. I wondered if anyone questioned the peculiarity of our pairing. I know I've questioned it often, but have always remained grateful for divine intervention.
And Lisa Morgan. You see, Lisa Morgan is the woman that introduced us a year ago in Siskin Rehabilitation Hospital. I can remember it like it was yesterday... Jere walked through the door, and Lisa told us we could go sit in the cafeteria and talk. His response: "cafeteria food sucks!" He then looked at me, a stranger, and said "Let's go somewhere else and eat. I'm driving."
I looked at him, and gave an immediate response of "sure!" I hadn't thought through the fact that I didn't know the extent of his brain injury. I only knew that this would be someone interesting, and I was determined to find some adventure. I remember Lisa's final words as we walked out the door together:
"Don't let me see you two on the news!!!"
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