My left elbow started hurting out of the blue in early September 2017. I couldn’t figure out the reason. I didn’t bump, bang, or slam it against something. It just hurt. Eventually, the pain disappeared.
Yesterday afternoon, as we drove home from Philadelphia, the elbow pain returned with a vengeance. Again, it came out of nowhere. There were no falls, bumps, etc. It doesn’t hurt just sitting here and typing this — unless I rub the area right above the elbow. OH MY GOODNESS. The pain is bug-your-eyes-out with intensity. If I lean up against something or bend it strangely, the pain roars back.
It occurred to me, after randomly leaning on my left elbow and seeing stars this morning, that the last time I felt this kind of pain was when my uncle passed away in 2017. His death hit me hard for several reasons. He died at 74 years old, which was way too young. Also, he was the first person in my parents’ generation level to pass away. My parents and their siblings were getting older. Even though I still pictured them with their natural hair colors in their early 40s, the reality was that all of them were in their 70s back in 2017. My uncle’s passing squeezed my heart, which must’ve come out in some form of elbow pain.
Yesterday morning, I was putting on makeup in our hotel room in Philly, where we spent the weekend with our kids. My husband’s phone began to ring. Ari grabbed it from the night table, declared it was my dad, and brought it to me. I picked up and asked, “What’s wrong?” since he knew we were away with the kids.
“Everything is fine with me and mom. But,” he paused, “Adam died last night. He had a heart attack.” (Adam was my first cousin, the youngest of the grandkids. He died at 38.)
I gleaned whatever information I could from my dad, who called Marc when I didn’t pick up my phone and hung up. I told Marc. Inevitably, the kids overheard since we were in a hotel room together. Of course, they had questions.
They had questions ALL. DAY. LONG.
There were phone calls back and forth with my parents. There were calls to two of my other first cousins. There was a call to my uncle and aunt, who were shocked and bereft.
As I unpacked from our trip last night, I felt pangs of pain in my left elbow. WHAT THE HECK?!!!?
Before I went to sleep, I searched my mind for special moments with Adam. I remembered get-togethers in our homes, visiting our great-uncle at his house by a lake for a day every summer, and holiday gatherings. I remember him sporting a red tie and sneakers at my Bat Mitzvah, where he had a great time with some of my little second cousins who were also present. When I looked for photos, I saw an adorable one of him with me and his half-brother on Adam’s fourth birthday. We were 12 and 15, smiling with an adorable four-year-old.
Despite not being close to Adam as an adult (because we live on two different ends of the country), I still envision him as a sweet little boy. How could my cousin, someone of my generation, be gone?
That elbow pain that I’m having? I’m convinced it’s connected to grief.
That’s it—this is my slice for the week. I don’t have any witty stories about my kids to share—just a story about inexplicable elbow pain and death.
Raising Literate Humans 
Stacey,
I’m sorry for your loss. Dying at 38 is tragic. That’s younger than my children. I truly believe grief can manifest itself physically. Still, to be on the safe side, have that elbow checked if the pain persists. I started listening to the audiobook “Grief Is for People” today. It has me thinking about loss because it begins w/ the loss of things and draws connections to people. In time it might be of interest to you. Peace.
So sorry for your loss. Grief hits in so many ways.
Sorry to hear about your loss. Pain is a funny thing. It seems to hide in our bodies and comes to revisit us at times. Like a memory button of some kind. The button gets pushed when we feel stress or grief. A response to tension in our shoulders and neck. But as Glenda said if it does not go away you might want to have it looked at. Just to be safe. Thinking of you and family!
Oh, Stacey. I’m so sorry for your loss. I have also experienced a lot of different aches, pains, and tightness that I am convinced are connected to my emotions and mind.
Last fall, I had this unrelenting hip pain that I was seeing an acupuncturist about. One day, another acupuncturist from the practice did “body talk” with me, which sounds very voodoo-like, but it ended in me having an uncontrollable and necessary release that involved grieving my three deceased grandparents — my (alive at the time) grandfather was in his last month of life at that time and not doing well.
Your elbow is most certainly connected to this grief. Be gentle with it, and yourself. ❤
I am so sorry for your loss. Our bodies react to situations in different ways, sometimes before we even know what has occurred. I believe that it is a sign that we are all connected in some way no matter how much distance there is between us. Thoughts are with you and your family.
Sorry for your family’s loss of one so young. Like others have said, I believe pain in our bodies can be linked to this pain of loss. I pray you and your family will find comfort as you gather memories and honor your loved one.
Oh, this is a sad slice. We don’t expect death at such a young age. The Baltimore Key Bridge collapse brought back memories of a first cousin who died in a bridge collapse when I was in college. Take care during this time and get that elbow checked out.
So sorry for your loss, Stacey. I hope writing this slice offered you some comfort. Keep recalling your memories of your cousin as it will help you work through your grief.
I am so sorry for this tragic loss, Stacey. I absolutely think the elbow is remembering the past grief somehow – Our bodies do keep the score indeed (this is a book in my pile to read…) I hope your elbow gives you a break, and that you and your family have time to process this grief and share the memories.
I am very sorry for your loss and this kind of connected generation loss is VERY painful.
I do believe that physical pain and emotional pain can intersect in our bodies. I developed shingles on the eve of my much younger brother’s memorial service. Crazy coincidence? I doubt it.
Stacey, I was shocked when your story veered to a tragic family event. Life is so fragile and uncertain. I was thinking how upset the phonecalls must have been for your children. My thoughts are with you at this time.
So sorry for your loss, Stacey. It’s hard to lose people, especially when they are so young. Hopefully your elbow pain won’t last.
Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, Stacey. Losing someone so young, so suddenly and unexpectedly, is shattering. My heart goes out to all of you.