Grief comes in waves, they say.
We accept this as a mercy,
sweet relief from the idea of
All Grief, All the Time.
The thing about waves, though—
they aren’t consistent.
Sometimes they are long, shallow rollers,
not unpleasant to move through at all.
The dips and rises almost make you feel
more alive for the moment.
A part of something vast, something majestic.
There may be a weird self-satisfaction
in finding you are still affected by loss,
as if somehow that validates the ocean of love
you surely must have carried in your heart.
But then the big waves move in again
pulled over by the moon or some dark creeping undercurrent
from the other side of the world,
just when you are feeling safe and strong,
overconfident in your swimming skills.
These are the storm wave that crash down hard, relentless in rows,
holding you under, tumbled with the rocks for three minutes at a time,
(which in grief-hours, is at least five days straight.)
The gasping, the panic, the bewildered lack of breath.
You are shocked less by the wave, but the fact that you didn’t see it coming.
And the brief, bottomless understanding that it will come again.
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I guess that is san clemente beach?? could be Bournemouth beach too!!! we are going down to the beach tonight as Lewis has to collect a stone/pebble from the beach for a geography lesson.. i will try and work out my “phone” and record the Bournemouth waves too!!.. we stand together Allison in grief, by the sea xx (guess that is a special place as you and Vern grew up by the sea, although thousands of miles apart)
love you,
I cautiously watch the water as it moves along the shore
creeping closer to the sand around my feet.
Beyond the crashing waves, where the water is deepest green
the ocean mirrors the depths of my grief…..
One day when I’m much stronger and my grief is not so new
I’ll swim just like I used to do before.
I’ll take pleasure in the memories,
and tread water in those places
that we can’t share together anymore.
You and your children had so little time to spend with Vernon and the last few years were not that good. God be with you ad bless you and guide you as you led those children along in a new life. Thank of you often.
Love,
Becky
This so true ,have just read both poems ,Today is one year ago I lost my Husband I can’t believe it , some times it feels like only yesterday others it feels like years , I’m thinking of you Alison and the children
God Bless
What a significant day! I am so sorry for your massive loss, Susan. Did you plan to do anything to mark the day?
Beautiful words Allison! I can definitely relate. Joe just mentioned “the good news is the big waves get smaller and smaller as time goes on.” We can all handle those smaller waves…right? We love you, Joe and Nancy
Waves of Mercy, Waves of Grace! I guess I’ll have to learn to surf! 🙂