Waves and clouds

They say grief is like waves. 
Eventually you learn to ride them.
When I was underwater after Mumbo died, when I was on my rocky sea bed after my world crumbled, if I tried to come up for breath, a mighty wave crashed down, never allowing me to breathe, or even try to get on my board to ride….
Eventually, I could float and grief came like the giant rollers of the deep sea…the spaces and moments between the slow rise and fall of excruciating and heavy hearts were calming, allowing me to recover and prepare for the next wall.
And now, on my hilltop, my rocky cliff face just under the summit, the waves happen far below but it is now the clouds that being the sorrow and heartache; sometimes the loss of my Mumbo squeezing my heart and wishing she were here to ask the questions only a mother can answer…; sometimes the loss of my marriage and childlike dreams of one man forever darken my days, mind and heart.
But they are clouds. 
And eventually, like the waves, they pass on.
This one is a particularly turbulent one, swirling in moments of missing my Mum as I fill the empty space left by my wedding rings with hers and mourn her and for me.
I have learnt to help the passing, how to breath and live through it. I run. I bake. I hold my boys tight. I let him hold me. I see friends even though my heart is not in it, and allow their lives, their smiles and laughs to distract from my life, my heavy cloud.
Eventually, like the waves, the clouds pass and the sunshine will warm up my smile.

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