Huntington Bay feeds directly into the Long Island Sound. I live here. Salty air, beaches, and marinas each add to the beauty of this town. As summer sets in, the waters of Long Island’s north shore are full of life. Boats reflect the vibrant energy of the long summer days and serve as the backdrop to sunsets. On every drive past this shoreline and with each summer sunset, I’ve learned to appreciate the serenity.
Overnight, as summers turn to fall, the waters empty. Boats disappear from the landscape as they are stored away and then the darkness of winter rolls in. There is a barren feeling as time moves through the long cold winter. It seems like the short days and colors of grey last forever. I hardly notice as the boats return. It feels like one day I drive past the bay and like magic, it is full of life again.
This is so much like grief. Life before loss is vibrant and full like the bay filled with boats. When loss happens, an immediate emptiness sets in and all of the things that signified warmth and sunshine are gone. The long cold darkness rolls in like winter. It feels like forever. Just like the boats, the return is tough to notice. Hindsight helped me to recognize that it happened little- by- little. A smile. A laugh. Quick moments when the ache felt less and happiness was easier to reach. And then one day, a look in the mirror reveals a person who is once again full of life. The seasons of grief vary from person-to-person. But just like the boats, we all come back. Warm summer sunsets and serenity will return.