I suspect there must a primal force, deep within us, that draws us to the sea; day after day I walk along the water's edge hoping to still the longing that is now so much a part of my grief. Standing on the beach, bundled warm against the cold, I'm immediately calmed by the familiar rhythm of the waves as they push toward the shore and then recede. Here, the grief seems less like a bully and more like a tentative child, peering at me from a distance, waiting for a signal to move closer. Gradually, a soft glow of peace eases its way into my soul, and, for a brief moment, I let go of the pain
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