Good Grief Guru

The sound of the waves call out from the sea like an amplified heart beat.

I lay on an orange, striped veranda couch and listen.  I feel as though I am resting one ear on a man’s chest, drifting into slumber as the sound of his heartbeat lulls me to sleep.

It seems I was air lifted out of one reality, away from any triggers associated with my husband’s death.  Five hours later I am gently ushered into paradise.  The heat and the shushing of the salty, turquoise waves cause my eyes to grow heavy.  My writing reflects the transition in my thought process, as the ratio between grief articles and happy thought posts, have begun to lean heavily on the lighter side of life.

The sun lifts my spirits and the breeze carries my cares away across the surface of the sea.  It is the first time in months my mind has quieted its thoughts.  I can hold conversations without the compulsion to empty information from my mind in order to make room for more.

Responsibility lags behind me.  Even the threat of insomnia is not so daunting knowing, while I’m away, a house full of women are parenting with me.  Even if I wake up at 6am after falling asleep at only 3, I will awake to the sun, sand, and surf, and a day of little thought or worry.

All bills, chores, and reminders have been left behind at home.

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