Transactive Memory Extending Our Own Memories

I’ve written about the the inherent reflective nature of my loss and grief and how memories of Donna and our life would come in fits and starts. These moments become fulcrums to move my life forward and advance my self knowledge, us (Donna & I), and living in this world. This simple idea of ‘I remember this‘ becomes more complex when examined from what is not remembered. We don’t know what we don’t know. Like wise you don’t remember what you don’t remember.

Donna did not dwell on her illness. She did openly fear her eminent death. She gave me her illness to manage. Any thoughts of death any fear of death were held tightly in her heart. Donna wanted to remain alive and to live as she always had, on her terms. The interruptions of doctor visits, treatments, side effects, and pain was when she stoped to recognize the disease. As quickly as that happened it disappeared into my hands. My area of expertise/skill was managing the day to day disease. Getting her, nah going with her, to all appointments. Making pill packs at home.

I’ve attributed this division of labor to Donna’s desire to be disease free, it was not about denial as much as it was about division of labor. As a couple, I suspect like most couples, we’ve always had a division of labor. I would do the cooking. Donna would buy the kitchen items, dishes, pots, pans, etc. since they had to fit with the design of our home her visual eye. I would be the one to change the sheets. Donna selected the sheets and cases.

Transactive Memory

It turns out that this is Transative Memory. Transactive Memory is the fact people in continuing relationships  (in organizations as well) become specialized in different functions of labor within the relationship. Part of that specialization is the ability or skill set where the various members of the relationship manages different knowledge domains. One parter may remember all the details of what is needed to manage specific a area, Donna knew what sheets, shams, duvets, etc that went with what for each season. While I would be the one to change the sheets in a heartbeat. This is Transactive Memory. We used each others memories as our own. I didn’t not need to know color or style. Donna didn’t need to know how to make clarified butter or a hospital corner.

Transactive Memory in romantic relations improves self-esteem, life satisfaction, and happiness. Add to these benefits emotional support, companionship, and security. (Donna and I felt so very secure around each other and with each other.) It is postulated that romantic partners pool cognitive resources to increase our collective memories/information with less work. This pool of cognitive resources created a rich network of memories for us and after her death for me.

“Additionally, because people know about each other’s expertise (and non-expertise) they can make judgments about the reliability and value of any information conveyed. It is easy to see how a shared transactive memory system might work to help couples navigate their daily lives with ease and efficiency.”

The interesting part about Transactive Memory is that the theory and research shows that it is about the transaction or communications between members or a couple to encode, store, and retrieve information. Donna could give me a look and I knew what needed to be done. Or I could look perplexed and she would jump in. At the center of this theory is cognitive interdependence where the individuals depend on the knowledge of others and the outcomes are dependent on their knowledge. I learned to cook as a child. Donna was not a cook. So cooking became my knowledge area.

“…recruited couples who had been together for at least 3 months, and found that they used each other as extensions of their own memories, outperforming pairs of strangers at remembering category exemplars in different areas of expertise (for example science, food, spelling).”

Remembering What You Don’t Remember

Those memories (skills) Donna had died with her. Though they were effectively removed from my heart they were not lost as much as witnesses to deficits in my life now. Twice a year when I am faced with changing the shames and duvet I remember what I didn’t remember, Donna did this. This loss is not the same as loss and grief of Donna but the reality that we played well together and made each other better. I grieve for that balance between us where we as Donna and Mark would create new and better and do faster and more effectively.

When you remember what you don’t remember the hurt is as real.

Mail to Self News Feed #3

I found the Mail to Self app a year and a half ago. It is genius in its simplicity and productivity. At the same time maniacal in the burden of its output.

The app is added to your phone. You enter an email address into the app. After that when you swipe up or go to share a web page, article, etc. there is a button for Mail to Self. Just tap it and whoosh you got the article URL etc. in your inbox. The workflow is this. I will keep looking at my news feed, my papers, my sites, etc. and just mail to self to read later. Not so fast. My inbox is filled and I am not reading later cuz I got the attention span of a gnat

To repair the gnat in me I am going to post twice a week some of the articles I mailed to self. This is a way to share them with my non/imaginary readers and to force me to achieve inbox zero.

Spiritually Speaking: Grief sticks around after the flowers wilt

Beryl Schewe writing in the Eden Prairie News offers a unique way to address a loved ones grief when words fail us.

If only grief were so easy. Long after your flower arrangement has composted, grief lingers on. Grief has a way of showing up like an uninvited houseguest who refuses to leave.

Schewes’ idea is to send a book. She offers a selection of five books one of which includes C.S. Lewis’ “A Grief Observed” which is my favorite read that I have returned to frequently. Hop over and take a look.

TED Talks: What Makes Life Worth Living in the Face of Death

Lucy Kalanithi

This is a stunning and powerful TED talk by Lucy Kalanithi a physician whose husband was diagnosed with Stage IV Lung Cancer and died 22 months later.

Much of what she says and addresses are very close if not similar to what I felt and what Donna did with her life after her diagnosis till her death. Donna and her husband Paul may not be identical but the one point Lucy made that rings true for both Donna and I is this:

“Our job isn’t to fight fate, but to help each other through. Not as soldiers but as shepherds.”

I was the caregiver and her shepherd. She became my muse and a shadow for the remainder of my life.

There’s a poem by W.S. Merwin — it’s just two sentences long — that captures how I feel now. “Your absence has gone through me like thread through a needle. Everything I do is stitched with its color.”
Oh so true.