For some months now, I have been feeling good. My life is starting to light up again—my relationship with my children, my fitness levels, and my productivity at work have all been going well. But this morning, I woke up feeling exhausted, drained of energy, and low. What happened?

I continued with my daily routine, and then I remembered—today marks 18 months since he’s been gone. I recalled how I felt on this day one year ago. I didn’t want to get out of bed. I screamed, I shouted, I cried. I didn’t want to see anyone. I wrote in my journal and tried to capture my feelings in a painting, hoping to release my pain and allow it to live in art rather than in my body. Although it made me feel a bit better, I couldn’t wait for the day to end.

It’s true what they say: the body holds memory. It remembers the good days and the bad. We may try to keep busy or block the memories from our minds, but our bodies remember. They will let us know somehow, in one way or another, until we listen.

It’s okay to let our guard down from time to time and feel the pain. It’s okay to listen to our bodies—we are human, after all.

My recommendation: honor the day. Light a candle, say a prayer, or spend some time in nature with your own thoughts. Do something to mark the day, but don’t let it drag you down. Like waves, feel them—and then let them pass.