It appears loss flows in like the tide. For a while, everything is calm. Life is normal and the sea is pulled back, revealing the freshly sorted sand that permits play and vulnerability. Then, sometimes without warning, darkness falls. The waves crash further, harder, and chaos is inescapable. The exposed sand is now covered and what was once serene and joyful is now cloudy and callous. Loss seems to work similarly. You allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let in and let love, and then, as inevitable as the tide crashing the shore, loss prevails.
I recently talked with an old neighbor. He told me about the great triumphs and travels of his seventy-six years of life - his journeys throughout Asia and Europe and his ground-breaking career and research that altered the policies of economics forever. Throughout all the greatness, he talked most fondly of the love he gave and the love he received to and through his wife of fifty-one years. She passed away recently, just days after the death of their daughter. The pain came to him like the tide flooding the perfectly settled shore, crashing against the rocks and creating explosions of salty water. All the love he gave and the life he built was captured and the high tide left him abandoned, stripping him of his wife and daughter.
This proves my theory - all loss comes in waves, polluting the calm and overriding the serene. Though, the story isn't so sad. It is within the spells of loss and defeat that love is shown. Still donning the "LOVE" bracelet his wife gifted him, my neighbor talked of the girl he met in sixth grade with the same passion and love as ever before. He loved her even when she wasn't physically there. He cared for his daughter, even when she no longer needed to be cared for.
As powerful as the loss may be and as destructive as the tide can become, the sand always settles, and the sea always returns to calm. Love prevails. What was once harsh and painful is then overrun by love and faith. I do not doubt that he still mourns and hurts, but I also do not doubt that his undying, relentless love for his two girls is fighting off the high tide, barricading it from returning in order fulfill its hunger for more devastation.
Ultimately, my neighbor taught me the power of love. Not only did he love the same girl since sixth grade, but he also loved their daughter even more, if possible. While the tide stormed in and claimed his loves as victims, he remained. Steadfast in his faith and fighting back against the wave, his continuous, everlasting love is maintaining the serenity and powering the healing. True love is fearless and strong and everlasting. Through the fervor and love of an old neighbor, I embraced the power of love—the ability to change the tides.
