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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Margo hugging a friend (only the friend's back is showing) at Jimmy's celebration of life; Margo's friend Jerry is on the left wearing a JimmySTRONG shirt

Show Up

I have tried to teach my son, just as Big Russ taught me, that as much as we wish it were otherwise, grief and loss are central to our lives, and when somebody near us loses a loved one, we have a duty to show up, to be there to help them remember; to offer […]

Blown glass piece with strands of royal blue and turquoise running through it

Dancing in Glass

After Jimmy and my mom died, I went looking for a way to keep them close to me. Something that would heal and bring a feeling of peace. After some searching, I found SoulBursts — gorgeous, unique glass memorial pieces, created by artist Michelle Kaptur in 1994 to offer people a way to celebrate the life of someone special. “A way to hold a loved one in your hand.”

Jimmy and Jeff at 2008 Ride for the Roses luncheon in Austin, Texas

The Presence of Love

I usually end my posts with SHINE! Some, like this one, I end with the Jewish word “Shalom”. It means peace, but not the kind of peace that is roses and sunshine. Shalom is not the absence of pain but the presence of love. We cannot take away Jennifer’s pain. I can show her that […]

an image of two middle aged women hugging and comforting each other

Standing Knee Deep in the River & Dying of Thirst

Death provides a brutally effective way of finding out who leans in and who leans out when one of your beloveds dies. It exposes whether your family and close friends are willing to show up in a way that’s…

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