Grief will come in waves, unpredictable and relentless. One moment, you could feel like you're standing on solid ground, able to work, even smile. Then, out of left field, a memory, a tune, a common scent crashes over you, pulling you under. The character of grief isn't linear—it does not follow a straight path of healing. Instead, it ebbs and flows such as the tide, sometimes gentle, sometimes overwhelming. You may think you've made peace together with your loss, simply to be blindsided by an intense wave of sorrow. This unpredictability could make grief feel a lot more isolating, as though no one else understands why you're suddenly struggling again. But the reality is, this is normal. Grief is not something we “get over”; it becomes a part of us, shifting and changing over time.

Initially, the waves are constant, leaving little room to breathe. The pain is raw, fresh, and consuming, like being caught in a storm with no sight of the shore. Every reminder of that which was lost feels just like a punch to the chest. The simplest tasks become difficult, as grief drains energy and motivation. The entire world moves on, but you feel stuck, unable to flee the cycle of sadness. With time, however, the waves become less frequent. They do not disappear, however they come with an increase of space between, allowing moments of light to shine through. You may find yourself laughing again, enjoying small things, even feeling a sense of normalcy. But, just whenever you think you've found solid ground, another wave hits. This is often frustrating, even discouraging—why, after so much progress, does the pain return? Because grief is love with nowhere to go, and love does not need an expiration date  grief comes in waves.

Eventually, you learn to navigate the waves, even when they never fully stop. You begin to acknowledge when they're coming, and you develop approaches to brace yourself. Some waves are small, only a ripple of sadness that passes quickly. Others are overwhelming, knocking you off your feet, forcing you to sit with your pain throughout again. But with time, you realize that you're not drowning anymore. You are learning how to float, how to ride the waves rather than resisting them. The pain remains, nonetheless it no longer consumes you. You carry your loss differently—not as a weight that drags you down, but as part of you, woven into your life. Healing doesn't mean forgetting; it indicates understanding how to deal with the waves as opposed to fearing them.

And perhaps the most important realization is that grief's waves do not just bring sorrow—they also bring love, connection, and memory. Each wave is a note of how deeply you cared, of the moments you shared, of the impact they'd in your life. Though the pain may be sharp, it's proof that love never truly leaves us. The waves may come unexpectedly, and they may bring tears, but additionally they carry warmth. They remind you that even yet in loss, there is love. As time passes, you will find that the waves of grief do not only pull you under—in addition they carry you forward, guiding you toward healing in their particular unpredictable way.