Waves of Grief

My grief ebbs and flows like the waves.

For weeks it will feel calm, almost still, and then a storm will come and bring waves that twist and turn me like a rag doll in the washing machine.

I try not to resist. The waves aren’t mine to control. At this point, I can trust the calm will return.

What I don’t trust is the darkness that’s just below the surface of this ocean of grief.

The depth and intensity of these waters that have the potential to swallow me whole.

So I stay here with the changing waves where I can breathe.

Sometimes floating with ease, and other times swimming for dear life,

Aware that if I fight against these waves, I might sink.

So instead I’m learning to move with the waves as they come,

and some days I can even feel the beauty of being in this ocean of grief.

As the sun rises and the warmth hits my face, reminding me that I am alive.

Notes on this poem.

Grief can often open up a new kind of pain. A pain that’s just beneath the surface at all times. It doesn’t need to be all consuming, although sometimes it can be, but the echoes of its presence can be there even in midst the joys of life. For example, when Sawyer sang beautifully at her recital- my eyes were filled with tears of bliss and joy- yet below the surface a small part of me was longing for my dad to physically be there to see her. In that moment I wasn’t overwhelmed with pain, but beneath the surface it was there.

This is what i’m naming in this poem- that on the surface our grief can rage and it can also be quite calm- but beneath the surface grief can birth a new depth of pain and tenderness that can live within us.

So much of the grief journey is learning to flow with the waves as they rise and fall. Getting curious about them, and in the process learning more about ourselves.

We cannot escape the waves, they show up in different forms wether we want them to or not.

It’s in our ignoring them, fighting against them, and sometimes diving too deep into them that we can sometimes find ourselves on the brink of drowning in the pain.

Riding the waves of grief is different than drowning in the grief, which may require some professional help in order to get back to the surface where we can breathe once more.

Riding the waves of grief is an acknowledgment of our loss, and an honoring of the body’s response to the unique attachment to what has died.

As I myself wade in the waters of grief, and learn to live with this unique type of pain and longing, what helps me from drowning, in moments of deep grief, is remembering that although the pain is there it is not ALL that is there.

If i’m swimming in the ocean but only focused on what’s below ill miss out on the beauty of the sky, the light on the horizon, and the feeling of being alive that comes from swimming in the water.

The waves will come, this we know, but when they do may we not forget to open our eyes to the beauty that surrounds us, reminding us that our pain alone does not define our lives.