Grief.

It manifests itself differently in everyone.

Last summer we had several miscarriages and I felt that I held myself together well. I wasn’t a mess lying in bed. I was up, I was participating in the world around me, laughing, joking, having what appeared to be a good time. My whole body was shutting down. I ended up with asthma and allergies that I had never had before. I could not participate in outdoor activities that I loved because I could not move without having an asthma attack. It scared my son and my husband horribly.

I could not let go of the hope – the vision of babies that would not be born. To let the little spirits go – to release them from my mind. I held them in.

No release.

I find myself in a similar situation now. My grandfather has passed on – gone to the spirit world where he looks down and supports us from afar.

But I cannot grieve.

I cannot cry.

I feel the tension of this lack of release in my body – I am holding it tight inside.

My dad called me right before my son was going to get off the bus – so I made myself stop crying – I couldn’t wait for the bus with tears streaming down my face.

So I held back.

I made myself stop thinking about it.

I knew I had to tell Trace about his GGL and I needed to do it in a way a six-year-old would understand. So I waited. I told Trace as we were having a snuggle on the couch – he asked some questions – I answered them and I cried a little – but we had a school open house to go to so I pulled myself together and went on, made dinner, went to the open house came home and was sad.

But I could not cry.

No release.

I could not pull the lever and allow the tears to come.

So the grief is here, in my body.

I feel the tension.

My neck,

my shoulders,

my arms,

my jaw

and although my River did his best to massage it away – it is still there.

So here I sit at 3:30 in the morning – unable to sleep the tension building,

my body aching,

and no tears coming.

No release.

I have to learn to let go – to let the spirit go – to appreciate the protectiveness that my grandfather offers and let the unsaid things go…

Release.

Release.

Release.