I remember when David died and a fracture in my mind opened up and formed the large, deep, dark lake called Grief.
I was terrified. I didn’t want to go anywhere near it for fear of drowning. I knew for sure that if I got too curious and tip-toed to the edge, I would surely slip on the loose rock and fall in head first only to be swallowed up by whatever dark sinister creature took my husband.
But I learned the truth.
Through a lot of work and taking a thousand risks, I began to explore that lake and discovered that there are indeed deep, painful, and sorrowful crags and crevices under its surface.
There are also beautiful caves with smooth edges that are gentle and warm when I explore their depths.
I can even breathe underwater in this lake. I needn’t fear anything and have become quite proficient at exploring its depths.
Comfortable even.
It’s still dark but I swim in Grief with the grace and beauty of a mermaid who’s found her long lost grotto.
Two days ago (July 9, 2021, for reference) I spread my late husband’s ashes at the spot where we said, “I do”.
I made it to the same mountain pond where we had sworn to love one another ’til death parted us.
