Grief is sneaky. It gets you when you least expect it. There are moments where you feel your world is finally starting to look better and then you walk into one of the triggers of grief. It can be a song or a sound or even a place. This weekend, I realized there are certain places where I am still haunted by grief.

This year I decided that for my birthday I wanted to take a weekend trip. While I would normally go to the ocean, the summer months are not a great time to go. There is an overabundance of people and children that make my favorite peaceful getaway not as desirable until mid September. This time, I headed for the islands, to visit Poulsbo and Port Gamble. I failed to foresee that this would be a place where I wouldn’t be safe from the triggers of grief.

I really ought to have realized that I was heading into a minefield. Kody was stationed in Bangor, WA after finishing his training in the Navy. This meant that he and I spent a great deal of time over there. I haven’t been back there in years so of course there was no reason for me to to realize what I was heading into.

At least in Poulsbo itself there were far less triggers of grief. This area is one I’ve been to many times. I grew up going out to Poulsbo with my grandparents on their boat. There are fewer echoes of Kody hanging around that town for me as he and I only visited it a few times. We spent more of our time over there in Silverdale with his friends.

I was still having a really hard time just being over there. Certain places for me are more challenging. Port Gamble is especially hard for me. This tiny town is so special to me and has been for years. When I was a child, this town was a popular vacations stop. As a teenager and young adult, I enjoyed exploring the cemetery and sitting in the park. Later, Kody and I chose Port Gamble as the place we’d elope to.

We wanted to have all the paperwork done before the actual wedding. We chose to get married legally on the summer solstice since our wedding was happening on the fall equinox. It was just a small little ceremony with some witnesses under a tree in the park in Port Gamble.

Being there again this weekend was extremely challenging. That town has changed so little in the intervening years so it is difficult to avoid the triggers of grief. It is the same place that it was when Kody and I were young and hopeful. The rest of the world has changed. A lifetime has passed, but it is still the same place.

I don’t know whether it was the sameness of the place that got to me most or the overall threat of change. When I last stood on that spot with Kody, we were looking into a more certain future. One that was fantasy, I now know. What else is uncertain? What else is unfixed? I know the answer now. Everything.

I stood in that same spot again as if tipping on the precipice of the cliffside that once seemed like firm ground. I don’t live in the world I lived in then. Kody is gone. I am left with a new level of cynicism that will never go away. I am realizing that a lot of grief is in mourning the part of yourself you lose with the person you grieve. Traveling familiar roads, visiting the same places, brings it all back. The days are getting easier overall, but sometimes the triggers of grief are unavoidable, even during happy times.