Rachela Grace Nardella

The Light Between Oceans

There are moments when the weight of grief, the memory of losing a beloved one sits forcibly upon your heart. A gnawing in the pit of your belly begins to grow, a tangible reminder to the reality of your loss. I carry with me the reality of that which is the mourning of my Father from this earth. Yesterday I saw his name on an advertisement across the street and again upon the lips of a barista to whom I asked the name of. I wondered if he could see the tightening of my chest as he said the name of my father, did he glimpse on my face the reality of what was going on beneath? I still have his number saved in my favourite's phone list which I can't bear to remove just yet. I can still rattle off his number by heart. On some days I seem to remember that more than his voice and that frightens me. My tears taste bitter but somehow sweet as I write this, hot and sticky as they stream down my face. The pain in moments seems so unbearable, suffocating and almost without end. Almost. A dear friend wrote to me a tender and kind reminder on paper- "you are never, ever, without family by your side" and an accompanying teapot as a gift that renewed my heart with hope. The world would have you forget, to move on and there are days I find myself so engaged with the hurriedness of life, that I seemingly do. The days drift carelessly and at times almost cruelly by and with it, the familiarity of his face grows dimmer. How could I possibly ever forget, but I have learnt and learning still, how not to succumb to the heavy laden burden of grief. Allowing myself to submerge in the waves when they come, and they will come, but never remaining nor making a home beneath. The air above and the world becomes sweeter when you emerge from the murky depths below. Echoing C. S. Lewis when he wrote about all the agony we go through on this earth will one day be transformed into future glory. I take a breath. And then another. My tears mingle with the salty sea, we seem to share a secret language of aquamarine. I allow myself to be and to become. Surrendering to all that makes this heart of mine softer, stronger. Malleable in the hands of my maker. Light breaks in. The hope of dawn arises, heralding a new day. Not just beyond the horizon, but here, right now. For all to see and be welcomed into.