Waves

Death is so funny.

Loss is even more humorous.

So here I am, mistaking tears of pain for tears of laughter.

Maybe it’s only funny because I still can’t quite comprehend it’s depth.

We laugh at things we can’t quite wrap our minds around.

Death is different when you see him coming.

Preparing yourself for loss allows a peace when the waves break at the shore.

So here we are, you on the other side, past tense, me in the present.

Is the water warm? I always imagine the moments after death feeling like floating in the middle of the ocean. I watch from the shore, you’re floating with everyone else who exists in the past tense. The waves crash at my feet, toes sandy, heart full.

I am at peace but I know the waves will soon rise and take me under.  Over time, the water will rise and mourning, in its many waves, will begin the cycle of grieving.

But grandma, I can’t wait to see you again. I love you and I’ll miss you but I’m grateful you had a full life.

I’ll see you on the other side.

 

 

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