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.
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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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.
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.
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.
Every Visit Home …
A human being that has grown to regard life and our time with each other here on earth as sacred and precious. Beth grew up in the Ozarks and loves art, creativity and travel. She lives in Sacramento and is the Executive Director of a local nonprofit. Beth makes her home with hubby Chris and a not so little bad boy cat, Oliver.
Those Early Days Of Grief
My life is divided into a “before” and an “after”. On May 30, 2014, my beloved husband, Matt, died in a mountain biking accident during a routine run at Whistler. I always assumed that if I were to lose Matt, I would die too. Life, however, has a way of moving forward, even when you don’t want it to. This is the story of the early days and weeks of my journey into grief. It is a road that I never wanted to travel, and yet, here I am.
I Will Not Be Ashamed
May 20, 2010 was the #1, tippy top event that has made me who I am today {probably more than the next ten things put together} — that was the day that my Madelyn died in my arms while we were still in the hospital from her emergency c-section birth.
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