"Maybe anger is like a river. Maybe it crumbles everything around it. Maybe it hides so many skeletons beneath the rippling surface" by Elizabeth Acevedo.
Anger was my best friend until I slowly unfolded my grief. The waves of grief came at me as destructive as the waves of the Caribbean during hurricane season. They slowly pulled me apart and away from all that was familiar to me. My pieces allowed me to find the brightness between the blanks. However, the wave of grief keeps coming and bringing layers of vulnerability to the surface. The rhythm of the waves can bring me to a soft smile with tears; or to a range of anger that leads me to question myself. It is the unknown of memory or the things I will no longer do. It's not even the fear of death; death is inevitable, once we accept it, it's easier to start living in the present. One thing I have learned to ease the wave, is to allow it to come and let it pass. Sometimes I allow myself to swing into the ocean of grief deep enough to ride it out and smile at each memory. Other times I swing against the waves and the wind; so I get exhausted, frustrated and angry. Other times I flow over allowing the emotion to pass effortlessly. The pain, taken the option of a second chance, forced me to be present to the meaning of gratitude.