My Sandcastles Spend Their Time Collapsing

Grief is a strange thing. It comes and goes. It's like you are a sandcastle on the shore and the grief is the waves. There are times when you can see it a short distance from you. There are times when it comes in and sweeps a circle around you. Then there are the times that it comes with extra strength, and surges right over you. Suddenly you've lost some of your shape. You are a soaked pile of mud waiting for that child to turn you back into a castle again. Grief comes in waves. At times that may seem like a good thing, to have that break in between the rounds. However, they are most deadly when there's been a decent calm before. The wave has had time to build strength and you had forgotten about it's existence while it left you alone for the moment. But grief is never gone. It lurkes and waits for those opportune moments. However , just like a storm, it will slowly lose strength. The waves will become farther apart. They will become smaller and smaller until finally the glassy finish of the bay has returned. So I wait. For the calm after the storm.