Grief often comes in waves. There are stages, yes—but they don’t arrive in neat order or follow a checklist we can mark as “done.” Instead, grief moves unpredictably, rising and falling like the tide.
Waves really are the best description. Just when one begins to recede, like a low tide drawing back, another rolls in—sometimes gentle, sometimes like a tsunami.
And it’s not only the immediate loss we feel. Grief has a way of stirring up other unsettled griefs buried in the sea of our hearts. Old hurts, unfinished goodbyes, or strained relationships can resurface and crash in alongside the fresh sorrow.
In recently losing my husband’s father, I first grieved the weight of that relationship lost. But then, unexpectedly, another layer surfaced: the grief of my broken relationship with my own dad, who is still living. Other strained relationships also began to press in, carrying with them anger, longing, and sadness.
What I’m learning is this: each layer deserves to be noticed. To gently lean in, untangle the knots, and allow space for healing to begin.
Grief is never just about one loss—it’s the ocean reminding us of every storm we’ve weathered. The waves will keep coming, but with time, and a little grace for ourselves, we learn how to float.
