Mother's Heartbreak

Matt,  I spent two weeks in Florida, it was both beautiful and bittersweet.  Since your death I look at everything differently.  Walking on the beach one day watching the waves I realized how those waves mimic the waves of grief.  

I wrote this piece putting my thoughts into words………..

After losing Matt, I look at life differently. As if I see simple things that are very familiar but now my lense has shifted and I see them in a different light..
I never found a connection to ocean waves. They were something to run from, jump through or ride until they dissipated hitting the shore.

Today as I walked on the beach I found myself focusing on how they remind me so much of grief. Their sizes vary. Some are small, with little power to knock you to your knees. These waves hit daily and I can easily navigate my way through. They hit during a song or as a memory surfaces. They find me in the grocery store when I see a can of Beef A Roni knowing I have no need to buy again and send in a care package to Florida. These waves cause me to stop, telling myself to breathe that the tightness in my throat will pass.

The size of waves are constantly changing. We see them building on the horizon. As birthdays and anniversaries are approaching these waves are a churning power ready to drag us to our knees. These are the waves that hit without warning. When I think I can get through. That I’m walking on stable ground undermining how the waves suck the shore from beneath my feet reminding me that no ground is stable when those waves are hitting.

As I continued to watch the sea in its constant motion, my attention focused on those huge waves churning and crashing in the distance. Those waves are the killers. The ones that bring us to our knees, fighting for air, fighting to survive the sensation of being sucked under and powerless to surface in time. Those waves come when reality hits and we realize they are really not coming back. There are no more love you Mom, see you laters, texts or phone calls. When ordinary pictures become precious treasures that we guard with our lives. Those are the what if waves, the how did this happen waves, this is now life waves…..

Those are the waves I’ve learned I cannot fight. I need to survive however I can. I’ve learned the harder I fight the more powerful the waves become. I realize I’m drowning and I need to let it happen. I need to allow that hopeless
feeling to wash over me. I need to scream, to sob, to let my grief wash over me as the ocean pounds the shore until I am spent, allowing myself to surface,to float, to breathe.

Before loss, those waves were just how the ocean was churning that day. I found them calming and beautiful. Never in all my days of walking on the beach did I ever identify with how terrifying and relentless a simple wave could become as you walk the path of grief…….