“Such a heavy heart”, I thought to myself this morning. I have heard people say that before, probably said it myself. I get it now, both figuratively and literally. It is an euphemism to describe grief but it is also a physical feeling.
I have been hesitant to talk about it, being a nurse, I know my nurse friends would send me right to the ER but it’s not that kind of chest heaviness. It is a sort of a pressure, a gripping, a constriction; the kind that comes, in part, from my unwitting breath holding, though breathing doesn’t seem to lessen it. It makes me feel like I want to explode but, at the same time, it prevents it.
Perhaps it is the body’s way of clamping down on the new gaping hole in the center of my being; like a uterus clamps down right after birth to control the hemorrhage. There’s no break from it, no respite, no forgetting. I imagine it will be my near constant companion until this process is complete in me.
But, you know what? Something about it is right, fitting, as it should be, despite the aching pain of it all.
In fact, a part of me is okay with it because somewhere inside me, I know that:
“We will never be the same as we were before this loss but we are ever so much better for having had something so great to lose.”
~Leigh~
Indeed,
Anne
February 21, 2021
Tripping with God: Stories of Faith and Inspiration 