There must be something strangely sacred about salt. It is in our tears and in the sea.Kahlil Gibran

Those of us who’ve suffered one or more devastating losses often describe grief as being like the ocean with pain and longing breaking over us in waves. At times, the sadness is overwhelming, and we feel as though we’re drowning. But over time, we learn to float, to keep our head above water. We begin to recognize when the big waves are coming and become better able to deal with them. Although we never escape the sadness, we learn to navigate the waters of grief and move forward into the life we create in the wake of our loss.

a panoramic photo of Pismo Beach at sunset

During my darkest days, I found that the wisdom and experience of other grievers helped me to re-enter the world. They showed me that life after the death of a beloved was possible, that I could begin to see beauty, find grace and feel hope, even joy. They helped me realize that love was all around me, and all I had to do was lean in.

At Salt Water, our community can help you find your equilibrium and begin to heal after an unbearable loss. As Barbara Kingsolver put it so beautifully in High Tide in Tucson:

What a stroke of luck. What a singular brute feat of outrageous fortune: to be born into citizenship in the animal kingdom. We love and we lose, go back to the start and do it right over again. For every heavy forebrain solemnly cataloguing the facts of a harsh landscape, there’s a rush of intuition behind it crying out: High tide! Time to move out into the glorious debris. Time to take this life for what it is.

We invite you to become part of our community. Share your story, ask a question, make a comment. We’d love to hear from you.

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Rudy driving a red Miata. The background is blurry.

Keep Them In Your Heart

I lost my oldest brother Rudy in December 2016. It was sudden and still to this day, a shock. Sudden death or “our of order deaths” are harder to deal with, in my opinion. I have lost people to cancer, old age, other health issues, but nothing has ever compared to how to we lost Rudy. It was a car accident. We had no warning, and we are still here two and a half years later trying to pick up the pieces.

Steph in a hallway carrying a huge bouquet of red roses and greenery in a glass vase. Her hair is up, and she's wearing a no sleeve white print shirt and blue jeans

It’s Okay To Say ‘No’

Stephanie Day Morfitt is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker in Los Angeles, specializing in anxiety, depression, trauma and grief. She is passionate about empowering teenage girls and young women, improving relationships and helping people navigate crisis and heal after loss and pain. She enjoys running, reading, watching movies and spending time with her husband, Neil, […]

Grace And Courage

Jenny, our precious one and only — the night you were born I could not imagine that 11 short years later, we would be in the same hospital, at night, again at your side, watching you depart.

Steph's sister, her mom and Steph. They all have blond hair. Steph's mom, in the middle is wearing glasses. All three are wearing red sweaters with black and white dancing cows just below the collar

It Won’t Last Forever …

Grief comes in waves, and it’s easy to feel like you will drown in the undertow. There’s no stopping the waves but you can remind yourself that yes, this, too, shall pass.

Dana wearing a light champagne tank top and holding a kitten up near her face. Dana's hair is dark, long and parted in the middle.

Stay Connected To Your Loved One

I had a recording of Dana’s voice. From a phone call on an early digital recorder (now since lost). I would listen to it when I needed to. Because of what she said, it helped me cope.

Heidi is sitting on a brown chair. Scott is about two. He's sitting on her lap wearing a dark vest with white trim, a white t-shirt with the number 88 on it and jean pants. His hair is white blond. Heidi's hair is dark brown. She's wearing a black and white checked shirt and light blue jeans. She's looking at him, and he's looking at the camera

My Recipe For Survival

This is the recipe I followed after my son died by suicide. But, if you are like me, I use a recipe only as a guideline. I add and delete ingredients and the same goes with this list: “take what you like and leave the rest”. I think this list served me well but I had never survived a loss like this before so it was all improvised and evolved somewhat unconsciously.

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