Grief is an ocean. It is vast, seemingly endless, unimaginably deep. It comes in waves. Some days it fools you because it is calm Below the surface. Other days, it rages like a hurricane. It crashes into you like a tsunami. But like the ocean, it is always there.
We all become sailors on our ocean of grief. During the horrible storm at the begining we batten down the hatches and hope to make it through the night. But after a while, we learn to live with the pain. We adjust to the loss. We sail along. But it is never gone and we never know when the storm will rage again.
It hit harder this year. Years 17 and 13. That’s the way it works. Some years those black days on the calendar warrant a few tears while listening to that one song that reminds you of them both. In other years it darkens a season that was only bright because of her smile. It deepens the dread in a world gone mad, and he can’t tell you not to give up.
Grief is an ocean. Of stories never told. Of lost hugs. Of time passing without them.
That one sone that reminds me of them.