Sometimes I have press on my heart to hold it together.

Grief sometimes comes in such a way at moments — without warning, I feel I need to put my hands over my heart, on my chest and press down to keep it from spilling out all over the floor. All the hurt and pain inside my heart shows up in the middle of any regular daily moment. No tears. Only the stirring inside my chest. The feeling of a huge cavity. An emptiness. If I don’t press down, I don’t know what will happen. I have to hold my heart. I have to press down. There’s a tearing inside me knowing that a large part of me is no longer here. No longer on the earth. It takes my breath away.

If you see me pressing my hands over my chest. This is why.