Releasing what I've been carrying ... to the wind, to the ocean

I’m a landlocked Prairie woman. Maybe that’s why the power of the ocean has always spoken to my soul, calmed my heart and fed my desire to be untamed — even if just a little. A visit to the ocean is special. It takes time and effort to get there. But it’s good for me; it’s always been good for me.

That’s why my heart sister has two visits to the ocean planned. The weather is cool right now in Portugal and swimming in the ocean is not advisable. But it doesn’t mean I can’t be mesmerized by the thundering waves. It doesn’t mean I can’t toss my worries into the water and let them be carried out to sea. 

Our drive today was one where we shared secrets; where I confessed what I thought are my shortcomings as a woman, as a wife, as a widow. It was where I shared the bucket list of what I thought I should do and what society expects me to have accomplished and the absolute angst that I’ve fallen short on society’s expectations. My heart sister challenged me; challenged why I feel the way I do. She asked the tough questions and her replies to my answers were honest, raw and real. She made me think and rethink and dig down deep to ask why I felt the way I do.

That’s the foundation of the most solid of friendships: you can say what you need to say openly and honestly because it’s said with love. 

It’s one of the most powerful things I miss about My Favourite Husband (MFH): our ability to be honest and real in our marriage and in our conversations.

So my heart sister and I cried together and laughed together and “talked it out” on our way to Nazare.

Nazare is a surf town with the claim of having the highest surf waves in the world. The road to the lighthouse is steep going both up and down (I’m getting used to that) and windy (which is why the waves are so powerful). As we walked it, I thought a lot about our conversation. I thought about the things I’ve been carrying with me, especially since MFH died. I thought about the hard work I’m continually doing to balance my grief and my new life, and how some of what I’m hanging onto is holding me back in some ways. It’s the guilt that I wasn’t a good enough caretaker or that I couldn’t will him to live. It was the guilt of not being a Mom even though we did everything we could to make that happen. It was the guilt of building a new life even though that’s the only way to move forward.

If I think about it all rationally it makes no sense that I harbour these thoughts. It makes no sense that I’m carrying around bits and pieces of these feelings. But the death of MFH isn’t all about logic. It’s about emotions.

And so as we walked to the lighthouse and overlooked the beach, what I saw was clear turquoise water, thundering waves, an endless horizon. What I heard was the wind telling me it was OK to let go of some things if I was ready. 

And so I did. I put most of it out to the wind, so the wind could carry it to the sea and out into the unknown.

It’s another step in grief.

Another step in healing.

Another step into being who I am now.

Obrigada Nazare...

❤️