It Comes in Waves

Grief. It comes in waves. When the wave hits, it submerges you immediately. As you gasp for air, all hope dissolves. Tears blur your vision. Darkness engulfs you as noises are muffled. All that is left is to just allow the undertow of grief pull you in. As the wave crashes and you pull up for air, you hold to a glimpse of love whether in a memory or a person. Your head is above the water again, you can breathe. Slowly but steady you regain composure. However you’re still treading water and know the moment of peace will be interrupted with yet another wave approaching. Not knowing the intensity or length of the next one.

A few days ago I was introduced to grief like never before. I had met grief briefly before as an acquaintance but never knew it intimately like I do know. I saw grief from the perspective of the shore, only wetting my feet to know hints of sadness. It’s not an introduction worthy of gloating. Frankly I wish my life could have never met grief. But it did. On October 9th at 8:42 am my life changed. I was submerged to the deepest of waters. My mother’s last breathe on earth left me to succumb to the waves of grief.

You are never prepared for such a moment. Not as an adult, not as a Christian, or not with all the knowledge of the fragility and complexity of life. There is no way to prepare to let go of the person that gave you life and gave you the meaning of life itself. There is an emptiness that follows after a loss. No one told me that a void would ingrain so deeply not ever to feel complete again. I long for her embrace. I feel alone. I feel empty. I feel like an orphan, literally I am one now. I feel broken. Like I belong on a clearance rack with a red tag labeled damaged goods.

Sad huh? Well that’s how I feel. I listen to the well wishes of others who genuinely want me to feel better but how could I? A part of me died with my mother. I try to grasp all the encouragement offered but they also remind me that my number one encourager is gone. The waves of grief do allow me to

smile and even laugh at times, but the moments are scarce for now. I’ve learned to have a fake smile just so I wouldn’t infect others with the sadness my soul carries. It’s not their fault if they don’t know grief, so I can’t blame them for here the phrase ignorance is bliss is something to envy of them. I shouldn’t put a facade during this heart break but I keep getting asked “How am I feeling?” I answer with honesty, “broken”. That tends not to be the response others want to hear and I get bombarded with cliches of encouragement that don’t even tickle my numbness.

I do appreciate the ones that allow me to embrace this grief. Even if they don’t know the magnitude of it, they still allow the waves to roll in and pull me up every chance they can. Unfortunately in my inner circle, many are treading water themselves and surviving wave after wave. Creating a bond of grief where we can find some solace in our pain. A pain I never wanted to know. A pain that mocked me at a young age in dreams. A pain that established residency in my life. The pain of losing my mother.

My mother was the greatest. She was the only parent this life gave me. (Even talking about her in the past tense tears up my eyes. )She was the best encourager, gave me the best advice, she was funny, she was glamorous, she was benevolent, she was the best cook, she was so loving, she lit up every room she was in, she was the guiding force in my life, she was my hero, my biggest fan, she made me feel better just by her touch, she was my prayer warrior, she was the reflection of my future self, she was the best mother in law for my husband, the best grandma, and she even was great at discipline. She was just the best. How could I live without the best? How could my life even resemble some type of normalcy without her in it? Why do I have to live in this twisted new reality that feels like a nightmare? My mother taught me everything except how to live without her.

I am my mom’s legacy. I know as she is in heaven, she doesn’t want my sisters and I to be consumed by this grief. She also knew this grief (for she lost her mom) and we saw how she learned to live with it. We didn’t understand it at that time but now we know. She raised us well, not only to survive but to thrive. It’s the hardest challenge but we pray we will overcome and make her proud. Even if right now things look gloomy and we can’t stop crying. For every corner, every day we are met with her memories that brings us to tears time and time again. Her voice still echoes in our hearts. Her voice and laughter still present in our minds and our phones. She still visits us in our dreams. She’s still part of us.

As I experience these waves of grief, I do have slivers of hope. I pray those slivers become bigger as time passes. To hope that I will smile again and enjoy the life I was given. For now I am navigating through these uncharted waters. You will see me emerge from these waves as I learn to swim through them for the rest of my life.