Our grief is an ocean; a river on which we drift

our whole lives through.


For the lucky, we float. Mostly. But then

A minute? a month?

a life

submerged beneath the water

throwing up gasping breaths to roar our pain into the aching, empty white January sky.


The ripples from our easy wake

foam and pound upon distant shores, stirring us.

But it is the cold water of the close which

numbs us, in the end.


I am sorry

for your loss.




I wrote this a little while ago now but it never felt like the right time to post it, for various reasons. Now is not the right time either, but to that end I realise there is never actually a right time for anything, so here it is.



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4 Comments Add yours

  1. Such a beautifully written post. There is never a right time to talk about loss but it still needs to be aired. Thanks for linking this up to #coolmumclub lovely xoxo


  2. Tubbs says:

    Beautiful. There isn’t a good time to talk about loss – just slightly less bad times. And it never gets easier, you just get used to it being there. #coolmumsclub


  3. An incredibly moving piece of writing. xx
    Thanks for sharing with #coolmumclub


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