My heart, my mind and soul know that we are quickly approaching the one year mark of the day my Son Billy was senselessly murdered.
My body must know too.
I may have mentioned before that within a week after Billy died I started dealing with very bad indigestion.
I know that is a common ailment in America but it’s not something I typically deal with.
The only other time I had bad indigestion on a regular basis was when I was pregnant with Billy in my third trimester.
He was such a long baby and as he would wiggle around, his little heel would find its way in between my ribs at the top of my baby belly.
I could see it sticking out and I would push on it and try to get him to move it down.
After his death, this awful indigestion lasted for 6 months. It would happen after every single thing I ate no matter what it was, and during my workouts.
It went away after 6 months, but it came back with a vengeance 6 days before the one year mark of his death.
Somehow the body knows.
My belief is that my body is remembering my pregnancy with him.
I am mourning his death in my heart and mind and every fiber of my being.
All my body wants to do is remember his life that was living and growing inside me.
More and more often we are told to listen to our bodies.
Mine is speaking. Mine is screaming.
Remember his life.
Remember that he lived.