What I Didn't Lose After a Traumatic Brain Injury

After my traumatic brain injury (TBI), I lost many things: a sense of safety in the world, trust in life, executive function, cognitive clarity, balance, the ability to write prose, and both short-term and long-term memory. For a while, I thought I had lost myself.

Then one afternoon, I found myself sitting in a Barnes & Noble café. My iPod played “Creative Mind” by Jeffrey Thompson—music that always lifted my mood. Beside me sat my notebook, a Starbucks coffee with two pumps of chocolate and coconut milk, and my favorite pen. Familiar comforts.

I looked up and saw an elderly woman nearby. Her sparkly blue eyes were framed by soft, silvery curls. When she caught my gaze, she smiled—a smile so warm and delightful I couldn’t help but return it. Our eyes lingered in quiet connection.

We didn’t know each other’s stories. We didn’t need to. No knowledge of trauma, religion, education, or politics passed between us. Just two women—one an elder, the other young enough to be her daughter—sharing a moment of grace.

That smile stirred a memory.

Years ago, when I was thirteen, I came home from school and spoke briefly with Pearl, my mother’s housekeeper and sitter. Pearl was a treasure—her name suited her. I was a skinny girl in a troubled home, the eldest of four, carrying the weight of adult responsibility far too early. As she folded towels in her flowered housedress, Pearl looked at me and said, “Louise, you smile with your eyes.”

Her words gave me an image of myself that was far kinder than the one I received at home. They stayed with me.

Originally written in 2015 — Revisited in 2026