Surviving the Big Wave

When you are grieving, you take a lot of short trips to a place that is dark, dank and lonely. Even when you are putting up the good fight to be okay. Especially when you are working your happiness game. Your content game. Your let-me-find-the-silver-lining game. Especially then. It is so exhausting. But you do it because you must survive. For yourself. For your Mother. For your Sister. For your Dad. For everyone who wants you to be okay. I respect that. I appreciate that. I am grateful for the truth that my absence would have an effect on others lives. But all that doesn’t matter when you are absolutely sure you are doing well and out of nowhere comes that wave of crushing emotion that takes your breath away.

Just the other day I was gulping for air as I cried my heart out. I was also hissing. Gulping and hissing. I was cracked wide open. Gulping. Hissing. Wide open. In the midst of that emotional hurricane I was conscious of my desire for it to just pass. Get on with it and then leave me alone. I was giving over to it but not entirely because I have this paralyzing fear that doing so would sink me. And I have to float. For myself. For my family. For those who love me. I have to float.

So I stand in the midst of the storm. I let the waves wash over me, battering me and then washing me off. I surf those big waves by standing still. I give thanks when they come. I give thanks when the waters recede back into the bigger body of liquid that is life. And I give thanks for bending but not breaking.

Bendable but not breakable.jpg

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