Sneaker Wave

On the coast in the Pacific Northwest, we’re warned when we visit about Sneaker Waves. I capitalize because they’re lethal and worthy of respect. They don’t seem to be part of the regular rhythm of the ocean tides. I’m sure they are, just not in the sense readily visible to a beach-walker. They’re quick. They’re strong. They can wipe away people in a blink of an eye. They’re absolutely no joke. Today’s post is part PSA and part metaphor, I guess.

Just like the Oregon coast, grief has Sneaker Waves. I’ll be going along my day doing whatever task is in front of me or relaxing and reading a book. And then POW! Swept away into a fit of tears and pain so excruciating I can’t breathe. Overcome. Drowning in emotion. A song will come up on my shuffle; the leaves that we would rake together are falling and he’s not here to do our favorite fall chore; I cook alone, breakfast is yogurt and cold cereal; I walk to and from friends’ alone; I am unable to hold on to him when tragedies around the world rain down. I go from cheerful and hopeful to abject despair in a moment.

Fortunately, my rational brain knows I will not die from these Sneaker Waves. I also know I can’t walk further inland to avoid them. So I will both suffer and survive. But I will also become more adept at navigating them. Maybe that’s one of the reasons we’re to be gentle and gracious to one another. Who knows when somebody is being swept away by a Sneaker Wave and we might just be their lifeline.