Whenever life’s bitter knife strikes my heart all I crave is serenity.

Sometimes, I picture myself in the wide open field on my great grandparent’s farm. It is filled with vibrant green grass, daisies and surrounded by a thick forest. The air is cool, but there is a heavenly warmth from the sun. In the distance, all I can hear are birds softly chirping.

This is where my mind goes when the chaos of the world overtakes me. My heart and mind need this peace. I can even recall my diary entries from when I was little. Whenever I would write about being hurt or struggling, it was followed by my wish to be in a peaceful place.

I think it is why I loved sailing so much then. It was a blissful escape to keep the Earth below my feet.

Conversations can be that peace for me too. Real conversations seem to be a fleeting fad, but it’s what I crave most in this world. It’s how I deal with things. Problems. Happiness. All of it. I need to talk through it.

When I say real conversations, I mean the kind where you are ALL in it. There’s no self-serving motive. You aren’t waiting for the other person to shut up so you can speak. You listen with intent. And the most magical thing of all, you speak about real life.

My Great Grandma Marjorie is one of the best at it.

She’s not afraid to speak about the painful things in life and she certainly has had her share. When you speak with Grandma Marjorie, you get all of her. There is no agenda, but an earnest desire to converse. I love the way she speaks about Kevin.

It’s always a bittersweet pull with my heart on how people mention him now. She does it in such a way that I am comforted in knowing how much she loved him. He so loved her. He could always see why the people in my life meant the world to me.

She also says the tough things that I need to here. “Melissa, you will love again. I know it. You will recognize it when you see it. Just like when you saw it with Kevin. You just take your time, girl. People ask me how I get through my days without your Grandpa Leon and I always tell them, because he wouldn’t want it any other way.”

I view my grief like an addiction. It’s something that I will live with in some form forever. Sometimes it takes over… I can’t unsee the things I’ve seen. Flashes from the funeral. Flashes of falling in agony as my heart shattered. Nightmares of burying my love. Writing the obituary. All of it. Floods my soul.

My life raft is remembering how far I’ve come. I’m still here. I’m still speaking my truth with people I love. I’m still finding those moments of peace. Those moments of light. I remember what Kev loved most about me, my strength. I think it’s what I love most about myself, too.

Until Next Time.