Riding the Waves of Grief
A lot of people compare grief to the waves of the ocean. I get that. One minute you think you're doing fine, the tide is back, you can see the beauty of the sand and the sea shells. Then all of the sudden, out of nowhere, a rogue wave comes and just hits you. Blindsided, you start coughing up saltwater. You can feel it go down your throat and it burns. It stings your eyes and in that moment the beauty of the sand and the sea shells are gone. You know it's still there because you just saw it. You know it's still under the surface of the water but the waves seem too strong and too powerful.
Then, just as quick as is came, the wave recedes and the beauty of the sand and the sea shells are there again. You can see the sand under your feet, the seashells glimmering in the sun. The calming sound of the waves in the distance soothe you.
You repeat this for how long? I have no idea, maybe forever? Maybe, the waves get smaller. Maybe, they don't come as often. Maybe, when they do hit you, it's just not as bone-crushing and the stinging gets a little easier to bear because now, you’re use to it. You know what's coming. Maybe, you remember to feel the sand beneath your feet. Maybe, you imagine the sea shells instead of being able to see them with your eyes. Maybe, you hold on to the knowledge that the beauty is still there, under the surface. Maybe,you learn to stand further up on shore, away from the crushing waves. Maybe not, because then you don't get to see the beauty of what's IN the water. Maybe, just maybe, you will find a life vest. That way, when the waves come crashing, you get to keep your head above water. Maybe, that's what it's like when you get further in your journey with grief. Maybe, you've just learned how to hold on to something really tight because when inevitably, the wave of grief comes crashes over you, you don't get the same burn in your eyes and down your throat. All because you've got something to hold onto that's keeping you afloat from it all.
I like the comparison of the ocean to grief. I think it makes complete and total sense. Even though you know those waves are going to come, that they are going to crash over you and it's going to hurt. You also There is still a calming peace afterwards. The peace you feel when listening to the waves in the distance. You know the rush of the grief waves are there and coming for you, but somehow they're still beautiful.
The power of grief feels real. The waves of grief are a reminder of the love I still have. Recently, I have been peeking through the pain of my loss . I’ve realized that tumbling under the waves, is worth the beauty of standing on the shore. Without allowing the risk of the crushing waves, I would miss out on the treasures of the seas. Maybe, just maybe I will be okay.