Dish Water Soaked Grief

I try not to blog more than once a week. All the models tell you no one really wants to hear from anyone, about anything, more than that. Once a week. And good little rule following OCD person that I am gladly obliges. Except for now. I feel like this time it’s worth it. I also don’t really care what the models and the “people” think. But that’s another blog entirely.

Yesterday was Mom and Dads anniversary. 56 years. And I had no idea until late in the day. For the past month or so I haven’t really known what day of the week it is, much less the date. So I was out on the water deep sea fishing, for the first time ever, living my life, oblivious to time and space. Just enjoying life. I got back to the condo, showered, cooked, ate dinner and was washing the dishes.

Then boom. I have no idea what hit me. I genuinely have no clue what happened to make me realize the date. I just know that I doubled over with a pain greater than anything I’ve ever felt, and let loose sounds that can only be described as primal. I felt my loss for the first time. It was their first anniversary with both of them gone and I was done in. Broken. Shattered.

I stood there stomping my feet like a spoiled toddler, wailing in a way I’ve never heard, brought to my knees on the kitchen floor of a strangers condo, as I used dish water soaked hands to try and wipe away nearly a years worth of grief and pain. I felt things I hadn’t felt until then.

A couple of times I tried to tell myself to buck up and get myself together. But I realized I needed to ride the waves and the pain and feel every last bit of my feelings or I would never ever be able to start to heal. After an hour or more I finally could see well enough to send messages to the friends closest to me. My sister. A couple of girlfriends. Another friend. I needed my tribe. One friend told me to go out on the water. Go to where I’ve felt the most peace lately, and talk to them.

So this morning I got up, had my coffee (momma and daddy’s girl), and then got my paddle board ready, and walked down to the water. I spent over an hour paddling and just talking. It was almost like some kind of prayer, this conversation I had with my parents. So much came pouring out of me. So many things I didn’t even realize I felt. I had no idea just how much guilt I carried that I had left my mothers side for half an hour and then she passed away, while I had been holding my dads hand when he left us. I knew it bothered me. But I had no idea how much.

Today brought so much out of me. So much conversation. So many things I told them that I didn’t know I missed sharing with them. And I finally got a little bit of myself back. After I got off the water, I walked back and showered really quickly then walked to the little beach bar where I had been putting my board in every day. I sat at the outside railing overlooking the bay, eating some oysters, and right there…close enough where I could have walked in to the water and touched them, were 2 dolphins playing. Right where I have been spending quiet time every day this past week. Right where I came in after spending an hour talking to mom and dad.

Every time in the past year that I have had an experience in nature and talked to my parents, 2 animals have shown up. 2 dogs. 2 birds. 2 dolphins. Happy first forever anniversary together mom and dad. I hope it’s the first of an eternity of anniversaries loving each other pure and whole.

#anniversaries #travel #adventure #healing #grief #wanderlust #hippiegirl #twodogsandablog #growth #makingmoriesallovertheworld

One thought on “Dish Water Soaked Grief

  1. Stephanie,

    I, too, can recall the primal wailing coming from my core when my parents passed on. It was heart wrenching not to be able to “save” them. But they are in Heaven and are whole again just as your precious parents are. Grief is a process/ journey that is different for all of us. You are wise. Always remember that those who love deeply never grow old.

    Love to you,


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s