top of page
Search
wtgrief

Shipwreck

“Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children but I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents worth.

“I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.

“As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some pieces of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wife you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything... and the wave comes crashing .But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall, or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare airport. You see it coming for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, spluttering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come, And you’ll survive them too If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”

When you have experienced the greatest loss and storm in your life what wreckage do you have to hold on to? You are trying to find a piece of normalcy when everything has changed. Do you have someone to reach out to, a friend or support system to hold on to and float with you to shore? Do you have an understanding of the grief process/journey? Learn all you can about your grief. Symptoms, emotions such as guilt, blame, anger, and the triggers that cause you to hang on to your wreckage tighter. Do you have some survival coping skills for self care? Nutrition, sleep, hydration, exercise and taking grief breaks. Calm your soul with music, journaling, art and find some other soul amid the wreckage to connect with, a friend, counsellor, or support program.

Covid 19 has caused us to not have the connection with others that we need, the assurance that we have the skills to cope with what is ahead, we are left lonely and often with fear. Look around for more wreckage (support) you can reach for. Connect with others via email, FB, phone, and meet with physical distancing and be safe.

May you not loose your grip on your piece of wreckage. May you find others to float with to a shore of safety, healing and a “new normal”.



Submitted by: Shirley L Scott for Walking Through Grief Society 780-846-2576 Supported by: FCSS City of Lloydminster, Towns of Vermilion and Wainwright, Villages of Kitscoty and Marwayne, County of Vermilion River and donations.

1 view0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comentários


bottom of page