Two years ago, almost to the day. I started on a journey where I needed to learn to ride in the waves.
Just had to do it.
The waves were metaphors, but overpowering.
My breathe was taken out of me many times, but I choose to not allow it to not overcome me.
The diagnosis of my best friend and mom having cancer.
The death of my beloved mom on Christmas 2013.
My grief was like living in a boat.
Some days the journey would be surreal, warm and comforting.
But without a moment’s notice the waves would start to pummel me, push me under and make me gasp for air.
I didn’t know what to do.
I couldn’t “do” anything.
I need to just “be” in the waves.
Feeling what I was feeling.
Allowing the grief, sorrow, pain to come.
Allowing myself to learn and let go.
Two years later, I am starting to learn to ride on the water with my four boys surrounding me.
The waves are infrequent. The water is calmer. I can truly say that I have learned to ride in the waves and am now enjoying a time of being on the water, in the water of life.
Yes, the waves still do come.
Yes, I honour those waves for what they have taught me and how they have helped me become who I am.
And I am full of overflowing gratitude.
For all that I can do.
For who I am.
I am grateful for my boys.
I am grateful for the people that God has surrounded me with.
I am full of gratitude for my mom, her life and her death.