Grief reaches deep. In the two weeks immediately following the death of my father, my body felt the grief deeply, cellularly. Since his death, I have learned more about bereavement and its affects on the body. Reading like the back of a cereal box, most sites rattle off symptoms: sadness, crying spells, sleep disturbance, appetite changes… What stuck me was the intensity of the physical impact on my body. Waking up suddenly with heart palpitations, a fluttering heart that skips beats, racing, electrical charge on my arms and back, little appetite… The death of a parent, regardless of quality of the relationship, moves into us and takes hold. A week into this, and crumbling under the pressure of dealing with my mother’s antagonistic personality, hateful behaviors, and psychological decline, my blood pressure soared, I felt legitimately scared, and I found myself presenting to an urgent care. The doctor, a soft spoken middle aged man with dark bushy eyebrows, talked with me in a quiet exam room as I rest on the gurney, tears rolling. He listened to my heart, retook my blood pressure and diagnosed stress, but warned should I develop chest pain to go the nearest emergency room. “Do you have hypertension?” Well maybe, it was a little high at my last annual exam, so my doc is advising me to consider medication should it be repeated. My heart thumps on. I navigate the grief. Dr. Urgent Care further suggested that I no longer be primary caretaker of my mother. This was a Wednesday; by Friday at 5:00 pm a private duty caregiving service was in place and I felt some relief. But this was only the beginning of a chapter that has not yet found resolution.