I’ve heard that the cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears or the sea and I’ve tried various combinations of all three as I move towards my own healing. Shortly after saying goodbye to Charlie, our family took a beach vacation. There were many days I was up with the sun or awake with the moon watching the tide rolling in and out as I simply sobbed over his loss and all the constants in my life that had changed in the last 12 months. Each day when we walked down to our chairs there would be phantom paw prints in the sand and I couldn’t help but think it was Charlie sending me a sign.
In the days and weeks since there are times my mat is too quiet of a space for my grief and I’ve turned towards cycling. I’ve had many a ride where I hustled until I was breathless and my sorrow ran in rivers of sweat down my body. I’ve cried a time or two. I know that a year from now things will hurt a little less but the only way to get over something is to go through it. One breathe, one pedal stroke at a time, putting one foot in front of the other until I’m on the other side.