04/11/23

grief is a lot like the ocean. the pounding rain and massive tidal waves threaten to capsize you and pull you straight to the bottom, and it’s all you can do to put your head down and shoulder through it, all you can do to simply stay afloat. and as you shoulder through this storm for hours, days, weeks, you start to wonder if the storm will ever ease up.

and then one day, you look up and realize that the sea is calm. clear skies and and blue waters, and it’s such a relief to not have to worry about the storm, to not be overcome, that you feel like you could cry.

and just as suddenly and without warning, the storm starts again. and you’ve barely even caught your breath since the last storm and you didn’t even have a chance to enjoy the calm sea and why, why, why is this storm so unrelenting, so fierce.

but eventually …. eventually …. eventually the storm will die down again. and you’ll start stringing together more and more days of calm seas and blue skies. and eventually …. eventually …. eventually you’ll be able to read the seas, be able to tell when a storm is coming, how bad it’ll be, and how to prepare.

the storms will never end entirely. it’s not the way of the ocean, and it’s not the way of grief. but the promise of a calm sea is on the horizon.