When we grieve, all of us grieves. Every sense as well as emotion responds.
Sometimes the recording of our grief requires more than words, more than prose.
I can not show you the scents and sensations but I can take you with me on a visual journey, of my my grief.
It might help to know that my brother drowned, but since then I too have been drowning in grief. This is my visual documentation of my first long happy seaside walk in 20 years.
I hesitated briefly, took one foot off the grass and set it on firm wet sand, little by little I stopped looking at the sand and looked at the horizon. A prayer, and then a long look at the water, the waves crashing.
It smelt of the smell of the sea, of salt spray, of fish, of sunshine. Of childhood.
It felt bracing and warm, wet and slippery. The march storm that stole up that day crept to mind, but I shock it aside to stay in this moment.
I could taste the salt in the air. The taste reminded me of my tears.
I could hear the thunder of the waves as they hit the resistance of outcropped rocks, and the rush of wind. Was it them or the birds that sounded as soulful with despair as I remember being filled.
I felt alone and full, I felt happy and sad.
This is what I saw.
Listen to this as you look https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2VnnmYxA38 for a better sensual experience.
two went for a walk, but three walked the beach together as it once was. RIP