Paul looked at his clothes hanging in the closet and softly said something like, “My clothes … my clothes.” His voice was a sad mixture of disbelief, realization, grief and finality.

I did not comment. It was Paul’s moment, his realization he would never wear his clothes again. I kissed him and cuddled his head to my body.

He sighed and I wheeled him out to the living room.

The sad moment occurred about two months before his death.

Head trauma

In medicine, we talk about head injuries and the subsequent influence on function. Head injuries are often the result of a blow to the head causing the brain to bounce around hitting the sides of the skull.

The effects on function, such as thought processing or use of limbs, are often temporary — although the capacity and time to heal or have functional return varies related to the strength of the blow and the general well-being of the conked person.

I have been spending a lot of time with the effects of an emotional blow dealt by Paul’s death and have come to believe the resulting emotional impact can act like a head injury.

I try to keep in mind the blow was big, and it will take time before the emotions and the stages of grief stop bouncing against my skull and begin the healing process.

I do not have any physical limitations resulting from the emotional blow, at least that I recognize as such. I do have thought processing difficulties. I forget basic things. I am easily distracted. I do a lot more of heading down the hallway and forgetting why I am.

Suddenly, I am misplacing more words than usual through normal aging.

And names! I have lost far more names than I was losing before the blow. I forgot the name of a close friend the other day. It is as if I have a sudden onset of random short-term memory loss.

The effects of aging, even dementia do not have the sudden onset of the intensity I am experiencing.

So, I concluded: Emotional trauma has its own set of symptoms, not dissimilar from a head trauma.

Grieving manuals refer to “being absent-minded.” One of the grieving guidebooks I read reminds those with a grieving person to understand that a person may forget their name or “not be themselves.”

It is important to us newly grieving to know the state is temporary, something those who have been through it know.

Yet, we have changed. We are not the same people and will not be living the same life.

We do not even know if we have the same resources.

Yes, we know that time heals although, the time to healing seems endless.

The blow is too fresh, too raw.

We delve into ways to heal.

We find ways to remember, ways to show our love, and ways to move with the process of healing. I have started meeting with a grief counselor.

Healing and the tree!

It has been nearly two months since Paul’s death, and his clothes silently hang in our closet.

The only items I was able to package up and give to Goodwill were his underwear and socks. Although they were the clothes he wore closest to his body, I did not feel the attachment to underwear that I felt for the hanging clothes.

Underwear held no memory unlike the jackets and shirts he bought while I was with him and he selected them.

I did not realize the emotional distress I would experience when I started to remove a shirt from the closet.

I could not do it. I felt like Paul must have felt; that I was removing him, erasing him.

I stopped and left it hanging.

That was the moment I decided to buy a tree and have it planted behind our bench with the heart of love in front of it.

Something living, something added instead of eliminated.

I bought a tree, a paperbark maple not too tall or wide, just right to fit into the space.

The tree will be a living celebration of Paul’s life; he would not like the use of the word “memorial” with his name.

Paul loved plants and landscaping. He weaved paths, plants and flowers through what was a vacant lot when we bought a newly constructed home.

I, friends, and those readers who have followed our journey and want to join us are invited to be present for the tree planting at 2 p.m. Sunday, Oct. 6. Paul’s tree will be planted at the base of the beautiful creation of Paul Christian Cooper who turned a sloping field of dirt and rock into a park.

You must let me know if you want to drop by so I can give you the address and especially if you want a Guatemalan tamale (courtesy of our great gardener and friend). Just email the site below and editor Mike will forward it to me.

Please feel free to come by and celebrate the spirit of a man who often said that nature was his church.

The tree is a gift to nature from Paul and me, in celebration of his life, my life, and the gift of being together 54 years.

Bertha Cooper, an award-winning featured columnist with the Sequim Gazette, spent her career years in health care administration, program development and consultation. Cooper and her husband have lived in Sequim more than 25 years. Reach her at columnists@sequimgazette.com.