Waves

It  comes in waves.  Waves of sorrow and weeping.  It's not always predictable; I wouldn't describe this as a "tide of grief".  Tides are pulled and pushed by the moon, grief washes out from the heart. Does the moon cause waves?   Looking at his wallet, his drivers' license brings the tears.  Sitting at BECU across from very nice Cameron as she examines his death certificate (how can my Best Beloved have one of those?) in order to remove his name from all of my accounts, I feel that I might soon drown.  I'm walking the dog through a blazing autumn afternoon and I cry for the burnt color of the leaves, the coppery shades of his urn.  Patty called today to check on me.  I sobbed, sniffled, and even laughed as we remembered him, his courage and will, his desire to protect me from what he was enduring.  Last night was hard.  Images of his actual death, his struggle to what?  To live or was he struggling to die?  I wanted to push those from my mind but the heart won't permit it.  The heart will be pushing the waves for a while, I think.