Passing Waves, Mine and Yours

Sometimes it’s not as significant.  It’s a subtle fleeting moment. For me, grief isn’t always a massive meltdown in a public place. Quite often for me, it’s taking a moment when watching a movie that has a sister relationship highlighted or when I am in a grocery store and I see two little girls fighting over who gets to sit in the cart. Every part of me wants to tell them to hold each other close because they never know how much time they’ll have together. It’s taking the little moments, when I see a picture or video of the ocean, or I remember something like the times she would get angry at inanimate objects for being in the way of her foot after she stubbed her toe.

They don’t last long. They aren’t strong feelings. They aren’t day-changing. But they always make me feel. Maybe I will smile. Maybe my heart will hurt a little. 

When Marisa first passed, I was amidst a massive hurricane. Unexpected lightning caused overwhelming  breakdowns at inconvenient times. Work. Grocery stores. Friends’ homes. Now, I am simply experiencing the weather as it comes. Sometimes it’s sunny and there’s laughter and joy. Other times, it’s overcast.  There’s rain, a few tears, and honestly, probably some chocolate or a tub of ice cream. 

Over the last 17 months I have posted here. I’ve brought to light where I am in my grieving process: stories I find joy in remembering and experiences I have found challenging. Now, I would like to give you the microphone, whoever you are. 

I would like to experience another small segment in this journey, but I need your help. I would like to feature your grief path, independent of who you lost or if you lost anyone at all or if you’ve lost multiple people. The beauty of grief is that we feel it so differently. I would like to attempt to display that here. 

If this is something that might interest you, please reach out and we can chat. The best way to reach me is via email at I am happy to keep your experiences anonymous if you would prefer. I would truly love to hear from you.

As Marisa would say, always be kind and remember to smile.

9.26.2021, 21 months since

One thought on “Passing Waves, Mine and Yours

  1. Thank you Mic.

    I am spending the day with Rissy’s doggie. I remember her wanting a puppy so badly and how she wasn’t supposed to have pets (being immune compromised). Remembering her hugging this puppy and naming her and deciding how she wanted to spell her name brings tears to my eyes today.

    Sami is getting older, sleeping more, has mini seizures, doesn’t walk as far, has lost some weight. John Gayfer said taking into account her breed, her health, that it would be unlikely that Sami would live much more than two more years. It makes me sad, but happy. I believe Sami will be re-united with Ris. I just like that picture in my head.

    Thank you for your writing this morning.

    Dad ❤️

    Sent with my iPhone



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