I was once told that I handled my husband’s death and the 40 days preceding his death with grace and dignity. While I am grateful that I appeared to be strong, in reality my heart and emotions had frozen over, leaving me an empty shell. I felt hollowed out, bereft of emotion. “How can I feel nothing”? I would ask myself. Friends tried explaining that this response is our survival instinct. Shut down to protect. But I always felt so hollow, like there was nothing there. No love, no fear, no longing, just this empty cavity that echoed.  I could barely breathe, but couldn’t feel the fear. I comforted family and friends while they sobbed, but couldn’t feel the sadness. At times I sat in the dark wondering where all my emotions had gone. Other times the emotions would show up in great waves, tears and loss so deep it bent me in half, buckled my knees and left me crumpled on the floor.

In all the years I had read about  a person “keening from loss”  I never understood what was meant. Till now, when sobbing from that crumpled mass, the sounds emanating from my body didn’t sound human. This high pitched noise I now understood is keening. It emanated from the deepest part of my soul, in long waves, leaving my throat raw and my body depleted. I am not sure if strength comes from the ability to shut down and keep going in times of grief and loss or if it comes from the ability to allow the emotions to purge themselves from our bodies, but the combination allowed me to put one foot in front of the other, appearing strong and resilient. How differently we appear to others when our heart is breaking…

When have you looked strong, but didn’t feel it?