How many times have we admired a body of water ranging to in shades of turquoise from light to dark? The most desirable beach locations feature coveted ocean views where the white sand reflects the light of the sun.
In areas where the depth of the water increases or where coral formations are found beneath the surface, the water color darkens.
As I sit here admiring this exact view, it occurs to me that these waters mirror my life.
During the bright spots in my life, everything is clear. It is easy to see where I am going.
My feelings are soft, like the sand. They sit below the surface with smooth waves washing over.
As the sun graces me with its warmth, it is met with a reflection of joy, happiness, and contentment.
In the darker, deeper times my feelings are below the surface. They are complicated.
The sun still shines on them, but my positivity does not radiate back. The coral represents difficult situations and feelings.
If I get pulled down too far or caught in the coral, difficulty arises. My breath runs out, and I am unable to maneuver my way to the surface.
Life cannot be lived solely in the clear waters. At some point, the undertow pulls us into deeper, darker waters.
We all face this.
Attempts to swim against the undertow, or ignoring the pull, will only lengthen our time away from clear waters.
The strength comes in our ability and willingness to swim parallel to the shore. We must feel our feelings. We must stay with those feelings until they are felt and processed.
Then we can return to clear, calm waters. We may get drawn back into the deeper areas again, but the more we practice swimming parallel to shore, the more familiar this becomes to us.
We must always remember that the ocean as a whole is beautiful. The calmer, clearer waters are great for relaxing and reflecting on our lives.
Even On The Hardest Days, He’s Clinging To You
It is in the deeper, darker waters where we see the stunning underwater life.
It cannot be seen above the water, but under the surface, there is living beauty.
Four years have passed since I lost my son, Christian. Many times I have been pulled into the deeper, darker waters.
In the early days of my grief journey, I fought the pull. I floundered under the crashing waves, unable to see the surface, let alone rise for air.
My mind could not comprehend a life without him.
It took a long while to see any of the living beauty in those dark waters.
When I finally did begin to see the beauty, I slowly stopped floundering and rose to the surface. I remained there for a while.
Occasionally I would take a few strokes parallel to the shore. Those few strokes left me completely depleted of energy.
It took time to build my stamina — time, patience, practice and faith.
Finding a good trauma therapist was vital for me. He truly helped me to process my feelings in a safe space.
He also pointed out to me that each time I had a setback and disappeared under the water, I always rose back up.
When you are grieving that water is not just dark, it’s black and oppressive. You are not quite sure which way is up.
There is a great fear that you will never make it to the surface again, but you do.
Surviving Life Without You: How I Keep Living When Part Of Me Doesn’t Want To
You keep repeating this pattern as more and more time passes in between being pulled under. Slowly, finally, you gain faith that you will always rise back up.
You learn ways to ensure that you will rise back up to the surface.
You put those ways or routines into practice and follow through with them even if you don’t feel like it.
They are insurance. Insurance that you will survive and thrive.
It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.
About the Author: Cara Martinisi is a wife and mother to three boys. Her oldest son lives in heaven. She is the founder of the nonprofit organization, Love From Heaven. She is also a contributor to The Mighty, The Peace Journal and Selfsufficientkids.com. Cara writes an inspirational blog about her journey through grief, offering the melancholy side as well as the post-traumatic growth found in the aftermath. Cara shares her unique outlook on child loss at 
Bonnie Robinson says
May 1, 2019 at 7:52 amIt’s only been 7 months since I lost my son and the shore looks like miles away. The waters can be very dark & deep when you least expect them. I used to sing…difficult for me now. I used to be a very happy, patient person, I’m that shell of who I used to be. I have had some ‘well meaning’ friends who have said hurtful things to an already shattered heart. I choose to stay away from them for the time being. so another loss in my life but I can’t be around the negativity. I do have a very understanding support system whom I will never be able to thank or repay them in this life time….things to be grateful for. I pray for all the Mom’s who’s hearts have an empty space.