The Body Keeps the Score

It’s been a weird day. A hard day. May 8 is a familiar date to me. However, I didn’t realize just HOW familiar it was until the end of the day when I was getting in the shower, trying to shake off and wash off all the injustice I had just observed, listened to, and relived for myself.

I thought the day was familiar because it is the 2-year anniversary of the day my husband resigned from the last church we served in. It was Mother’s Day. I sat in a 2nd row seat while ½ truths about my husband were spilled into a public setting. The information was incomplete. It was carelessly handled. And my family, discarded.

As I remember that day, I also remember a sweet, loving friend who brought me delicious chocolate-covered strawberries that morning. She acknowledged it was Mother’s Day, and she verbalized that the day was going to be a harder, less typical Mother’s Day for me. She boldly entered the darkness the day inevitably held, and she scattered it with her light. Thank you, friend. I still remember that.

The light also prevailed when my family and I went on a hike together with our big ‘ol mountain dog who turned 1 year old that day. Her birthday also brings about some bittersweet feelings for us. It was May 8, 2020, that our first fur baby, Mocha, died. I consider it an unexpected gift that Katara’s birthday is on the anniversary of the day we lost our 16-year-old Beagle.

Like I said, it’s been a weird day. As it came to a close, this all came to me. I realized a possible rationale for the way my body has felt today. I have so much tension in my shoulders and neck that my right hand and arm were frequently rendered useless. Like a nerve was being pinched, and it made it really hard to write anything at work. My eyes were twitching so badly I could hardly keep them open. I’ve had so many headaches this week.

I wasn’t focused on the bad all day. My mind didn’t fixate there. I just knew I didn’t feel well – that my body was off. Our bodies remember even when our conscious minds don’t. They remember the pain. They remember the season. I wanted to share this to say that these anniversaries of bad events don’t have to rule us. However, awareness of our body/mind/behavior increases our awareness of unhealed wounds or untended grief. Maybe it’s an untold story waiting to be brought to light. Share your story. Grieve your losses. Feel your pain. Your painful experiences matter. Your light-filled experiences matter.

These days of reminders don’t have to be all bad, but they may require an extra dose of kindness to yourself. I’m getting a massage tomorrow. I’m snuggling my huge puppy right now as I write. I’m also actively fighting for justice in corners of my world where it is sparse. If your body is feeling the approach of a hard season, memory, or anniversary of a loss, you may find this prayerful liturgy to be good for your soul.

A Liturgy for the Anniversary of a Loss by Doug McKelvey

Thanks for reading. Now, go live a great story.

~Sara