The Ocean
By Tammy Cupp
She stands on the very edge with her toes in the water, remembering what life was like before the storm. The blues and greens melted together in her memory creating a clear, beautiful picture of peace and contentment. She goes there a lot to that place where tranquility still reigns and where she can find respite from the weariness she shoulders daily. As the gentle waves lap around her feet, she is constantly aware of their presence and very much in tune with their power.
It wasn’t’ always so. There was a time when she had only heard of the power of those waves but knew nothing of the terrors they held on a personal level. It was a calm day such as this when the tempest began. Totally unexpected she stood by the water’s edge admiring the beauty. Some days she admired it more than others. Some days, she took it for granted. She doesn’t really remember now whether the day the storm rolled in was one of those days when she was taking things for granted or not. She doesn’t remember a lot of things that took place right before the storm began.
What she does remember is that the storm came out of nowhere and was totally unexpected. She was just walking along, the sun was shining, life couldn’t have been better when all of a sudden the storms fury hit her full force and knocked her off her feet.
“This can’t be happening”, she cried out. I don’t know how to swim in this terrible tempest. The waves are pulling me under and I will surely drown. “
The water filled her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. She struggled blindly knowing that nothing would be able to save her. But miraculously, from time to time she would get her head above the water and get a quick breath. It wasn’t much………….just enough to keep her going. She cried out in weariness and frustration. How long must she endure this storm and who would help her?
In the midst of this struggle, a Supernatural strength surrounded her. For short periods of time, she would find herself relaxing in a strength that was outside herself. There was a sense of peace there even in the middle of the storm.
Then the Power vanished……………the spirit of strength and peace that surrounded her no longer seemed to be available. She cried out in terror. She could not do this alone. I will just quit fighting the storms fury. “I will relax, and become one with the waters that threaten to destroy me”, she thought.
As she began to let go, she suddenly realized that there were others with her, reaching out to her, touching her. They could not keep the storm from beating at her but their strength was giving her the added incentive to try harder, to not give up. When she grew weary, they supported her and while she could not make progress towards the shore while resting, she at least knew she was not drowning. That Supernatural Presence seemed to have left her, but in its place were all these people who shared their strength with her when she needed it most.
As she pulled harder for the shore the waves continued to pull her back. Every inch gained would be stolen from her time and time again. It took a long time, but eventually after much struggle, she felt solid ground. She finally found herself in a heap, lying on the sand and alone.
In a state of complete and total shock she thought, “That storm could not have been real. It must have been a figment of my imagination!”
Other than the ocean at her side, the debris scattered along the shore, and her own disheveled appearance, there was nothing to indicate the storm had ever existed.
But the pain was all too real, and she knew that the storm was not a figment of her imagination.
Somehow she picked herself up and began the process of walking along the shore once again. Although she was forever changed, she could not abandon that ocean, for it was her life. All she had ever dreamed of since she was a small child was to walk in this place. So she remains there on the edge observing the beauty and holding fast to the memories from before the great storm. At times, the waves come in again strong and furious and she is sucked back out to sea as she relives the big storm. In fact, the big storm has simply become a part of who she is and is always with her, even when the waters are calm. When the storm rears its ugly head, she no longer panics, knowing now that she will survive. She does grow weary at times and wishes that she did not have to endure these blasts. But, she knows now that if she looks hard enough……….opens her eyes……………she will either see that Presence with her or she will see others sent in His place. She knows now that He is always there and always has been. If she had never endured the storms, her eyes would have never been truly opened to His power and the awesomeness of His presence.
What once was just the gentle lapping of water tickling her toes, is now a constant reminder to this woman who endures the storms, that life is truly precious. In one instant it can all be taken away. She has learned to accept the gentle pull of the waves around her feet just as she completely accepts the waves of destruction as both being part of the same ocean. You can’t have one without the other. The beauty and the tragedy are complexly intertwined: the dancer and the dance become indistinguishable until all that remains in the memory is the beauty.
Reflections:
Someone mentioned to me at one point that some days the waves of grief just overtake us. That sent my mind in motion as I thought about this analogy. In my story, the little ripples of the ocean are life which at one time were filled only with joy but after grief reared it’s ugly head the ripples become a constant reminder of what is lost. While able to deal with the ripples of grief that consistently wash at our feet, grief also brings those huge waves of despair that completely consume us causing us to fear that we just won’t be able to make it through the storms. Of course, the original storm is an analogy of the moment in time when the loss was experienced and the subsequent storms are indication of how we relive that sorrow time and time again. The Supernatural Presence for me is my loving Heavenly Father who is always there whether I can see Him or not and the people reaching out to help are those who continue to care and understand that grief never ends and we need help getting through it from time to time. The complexity of the dance (the combination of joy and tragedy) is my way of acknowledging that I could not have one without the other. I could have only avoided the loss if I had never given birth to my son. That was never an option. The eighteen years I was able to touch Josh on this earth and the fact that I will forever remain his mother far outweigh the tragedy of being forced to say “goodbye” to his earthly body. The beauty of who Josh is will remain in spite of our earthly loss. This complex dance of life and death will one day end in such a way that only the beauty will remain. Of this, I am sure.
