We fall and yet we rise again.
Grief comes in like the tide, waves knocking us down, washing over us, sometimes drowning us with their intensity. We feel the pull of the undertow. We hold our breath with each bombardment and wait for the waters to rescind. Once they have gone, we lay spread out on the sand, drenched, salt water mingled with tears.
We begin again to feel the breath in our lungs. We wiggle our toes and fingers, joyous at discovering that we still have the capacity to move them. The sun appears through parted clouds and warms our weary bodies. Each breath in helps us recover the connection to ourselves. Slowly, our strength returns. Our confidence returns, and with it, our desire to begin anew.
Until next time...