There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief … And unspeakable love …
Washington Irving

After the death of a beloved, there is no avoiding the overwhelming grief or the tears. In the immediate aftermath, we may be in shock, feel numb or even be in denial about the loss. Although everyone’s timetable is different, eventually we have to acknowledge the loss and how devastated we are. No matter how painful, we must sit with our grief and all that we’ve lost in order to start healing.

a close up image of a piece of paper with handwriting all over it

At Salt Water, we can help you learn to live with an unbearable loss. We offer ideas, strategies, tools and most importantly, hope that you can survive the death of someone you didn’t think you could live without.

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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Flow

I am carried through this house on waves of sadness. Picking up, putting down, straightening cushions to realign what has been tilted off its axis.

Jimmy sitting next to Molly. They each have a large stuffed animal next to them. Molly's arm is around Jimmy's neck

Counting The Days

There are moments when I wish I could roll back the clock and take all the sadness away, but I have a feeling that if I did, the joy would be gone as well. Nicholas Sparks

The word FRIENDS written on a flat gray rock sitting on a pile of rocks

Hard Consolation

My friend is dying, and rather than rage against that as I might have when young, I find myself savoring in the sweetest way the fact that we met at all, that each of us was born and stumbled our way to each other. Hard consolation that …

The author standing in a field wearing a pink dress with a watch on her wrist holding a copy of her book

The Beginning of the End

The oxygen concentrator hummed in time with the ventilator’s mechanical breath—their sounds a heavy reminder of the life they afforded in the next room. For two years their rhythms filled my childhood home.

Purple and orange sunset with a bare tree in front of it

Watching The Light Leave

In winter, you’re never more than a few steps from darkness. Katherine May

A pickleball racquet in its red and black case laying next to the net with the words "In memory of Michael Glickstein" written on the ground

Pickleball Saved My Life

It has been over one year since my son died. One year three months and twenty four days. I still cry everyday….I still can’t talk about him without tears. Between the tears there is Pickleball.

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