Literally

A pit in your stomach.
A hole in your chest.
A lump in the throat.
A burning sensation in the heart.

I have read/heard these phrases several times. People describing their sadness as if their bodies, not just their hearts, were broken.

Now, after three months and three days of my mother passing away, I go through my days, picking up life where I had left it off and going about my somewhat normal existence:  taking the girls to school, feeding the little one lunch, grocery shopping, finally getting back to the gym, volunteering at the school,  putting together celebrations such as birthdays, halloween, and the upcoming thanksgiving weekend.

I go through all of it not without a good amount of effort, ignoring my body's constant, gnawing call  to please go to bed and cover my head with the blankets. I have figured that if I stay busy enough, there is less time for melancholy or tears and at night I feel tired enough to avoid that scary gap between awake and asleep. Because if that gap catches me remembering things, there's no end to the night.

It all works until suddenly a single thought makes me feel that pit in my stomach. That hole in the chest. That burning lump in my throat. My heart being consumed. Quite literally. Real feelings that remind me that although life is back to normal, something is still seriously wrong.

I never knew those feelings to be so literal.

"Give it time" I tell myself as I take in a deep breath. "Give it time".