My body conducts my tears, screens vivid visual memories in the theater of my brain, builds rituals on the anniversaries of the boys’ deaths, births, due dates, memorial dates (endless dates).
I am reminded of the pain leading up to Tiger’s death around my period. When the same adhesion pain is pronounced, I am thrown back emotionally to all the feelings around his death. It begins in the body.
I believe in the power of motion, the wisdom of gravity, the emptiness of true love, (and) the fact that there is no way out but through the body.” -Gabrielle Roth
Occasionally I’ll be dancing and my body will move a certain way- that connects somehow with my uterus and heart maybe- and suddenly tears are streaming down my face. My body was theirs, theirs were mine in this intensely synchronized way…. our bodies remember in a deeper way than our brains can.
“Your mind can deceive you and put all kinds of barriers between you and your nature; but your body does not lie. Your body tells you, if you attend to it, how your life is and whether you are living from your soul or from the labyrinths of your negativity. The body has a wonderful intelligence. – John O’Donahue
Because it isn’t from our consciousness, it is especially jarring and dense. It seems to produce longing and grief from- not just a visual memory or verbal memory- but from all memories, from all worlds at once that have been effected by the loss of my sons. It’s beyond the Grand Canyon- the depth and intensity…. it can’t be taken in all at once and yet somehow we do, we mothers. We have no choice really… it is all in there, of, connected.
It is my body that takes me back to moments, before Tiger was born, when I just sat with him. It is my body that dances with Will as a young man, strong and calm and steady. It is my body that didn’t hold out, hold on, contain, protect. It is my body that ages and misses and wishes it could safely carry a child again.
It is all written in the body.
Bitter sweet home.