Waves of Grief

It isn’t hard to find words to describe what you go through in losing a child: Shock, anger, denial, sadness.  Those are all words to describe feelings you have . . . but what about the words to describe what happens to you.

I have decided grief comes in waves . . . much like the ocean.  Small waves come up and wash over your feet. You can feel it, but it pulls back and is gone.  Bigger waves can hit you at the knees.  Usually you can keep your balance and continue to stand upright.  You do end up getting wet and that wet feeling stays with you for a while. 

Larger waves are those you can see coming, but you cannot outrun.  There is no use in trying to fight it, because it is far stronger than you.  It will completely consume you. You must submit yourself to the wave and allow it to continue on its path.  It  takes your feet out from under you, sometimes even rolling you over multiple times.  It’s hard not to panic.  You can’t breathe and it seems like you are never going to be released from its force.  It can seem like forever before it goes away, and you wonder if you are going to survive.  

Eventually it subsides.  You are left wet, confused, hurt, sometimes exhausted . . . but mostly feeling like you never want to experience that again.  You breathe as much as you can because you know, before long, another large wave will come along.