Fish Out of Water

At times, verbalizing the loss leaves me struggling to breathe.  Straining to fill my lungs with oxygen.  Imagining a fish would feel this way, if plucked from the sea, then tossed ashore.  Undergoing this sense of insufficient intake of life sustaining fuel.  Experiencing it particularly when speaking to a very close friend or loved one about the impact of his death.  When acknowledging aloud that the space he held in our family has lost its density.  My reaction indicating there is still much left to release from within.  Even after spending hundreds upon hundreds of hours writing about it.  Thinking about it.  Talking about it. Connecting with spirit about it.  The journey continues.  There is no shortcut.