How grief manifests in each individual is unique. In the week following our son’s death, almost every shower I took ended in tears. It still happens from time to time now, almost two months after his passing. I’m not sure what it is about the shower, but I get in and before I can even get shampoo into my hair, I’m completely paralyzed by the wave of grief that comes over me. I can barely breathe. I can barely move. I can only let the hot water pour over me as the tears stream down my face. I’m by myself — it’s just me, my thoughts, and the mental image of my now dead son in my arms. Rinse. Repeat.