Solo voyage.

"Grief is like the sea, sometimes the waves overwhelm you."

As time passes I realise that it isn't grief that is like the ocean, it is in fact life itself. Most of the time we bob along experiencing the highs and lows that life holds, the waves are bearable. Most of us will occasionally hit a spot of dead calm, it doesn't last and life would be boring if it did. Even those who we perceive must have an easy life will still have their highs and lows.

It is guaranteed that life will throw up massive waves, deaths, break-ups, changes that we have no control over. Everyone experiences those waves. My life with Tall had more than most. A few times I was washed overboard, drowning in the confusion. Tall was always there to grab my hand and pull me back onto our little vessel, and we would ride out the storms together.  

I think that is what differentiates the loss of a spouse from any other grief. To lose the person who was your co-pilot and rescuer means having to save yourself when washed overboard. It can take months to be able to pull yourself back into your little boat, and when you are back aboard, navigating life's waters is a lonely life. 

More than four years on and I'm still struggling to find my way. The waves keep coming, and I have struggled to get back into my little boat. Four years ago, there were other boats I could call on. They have all sailed off on their own journeys now. Maybe they thought I would be okay alone, maybe I wasn't grateful enough, maybe my plight was too much for them. 

So now I am missing Tall's hand almost as much as I did four years ago. There isn't anyone else to rescue me.