The past couple of days I don’t feel like doing anything…only sleeping. I have tried to power through, heaven knows I have a ton of stuff to do before my surgery, but I cannot. I recognize this feeling. It is grief. It is not sadness, though there is some of that which comes in waves. It is like a mixture of exhaustion, emotion, and a heaviness that manifests physically. Mostly, it is a hole in my heart. I remember when I lost our first child. It was an empty feeling. I used to say it is as if part of me is missing. This feels the same. Part of who I am is gone. Like a part of my personality, or maybe a limb has been cut away. Painful? Yes, but at this moment the stabbing pain is set aside for more numbing, dull ache. The sharp realization that Louise is gone brought many tears, and I am sure will bring many more. However, now I am in a fog of loss. Mind is slower. Body is aching and tired. Emotions vacillate between completely drained or extremely heightened, depending on the minute. Everyday chores are next to impossible to carry out. Sleeping in has become a necessity. Long naps a requirement to make it through the day. I have tried reading, organizing, TV, and now writing, but articulating the depth of this is not possible. So I sit. I feel. I sleep. The only way to deal with grief is to go through it. I cannot bury it, or avoid it, or go around it. I have to let the process run its course and do its work. Tomorrow I hike with my friend who has walked this path before me. It is my prayer that the woods, the river, and the friendship will bring some healing and relief to my heart.