My head broke through the surface of the water as I took one last breath from the regulator. I pulled the mask off my face and a mixture of salt water and tears flowed down my cheeks.
This can’t be real.
I looked over at my dive partner, Doc, a geology professor who always had a good story to share and was never at a loss for words. Except now. By the blank look on his face, I could tell he was in shock too.
“I have no idea what to say,” was all Doc could muster.
Without a word, we took off our scuba kits and passed them up onto the boat. I climbed out and looked over at the other boats, who were also searching for Jenny and Mark. One by one, the scuba divers emerged.
Everyone had the same solemn look on their faces.
I sat on the starboard side of the bow with my feet dangling over the water. As the sun began its descent over the horizon, the shock of what was happening started to wear off and the hope I was so desperately holding onto began to fade.
My mind replayed the events of the day over and over on a never-ending loop that would consume my thoughts for years to come…
…Waking up to perfectly calm,
Caribbean blue water…
…Getting my dive gear
together…
…A shooting pain through
my ear…
….Changing my mind and
staying back…
…Hugging Jenny goodbye…
…Watching them get in the
boat and drive out through
the channel…
And now they were missing and presumed dead.
Each time the day flashed through my mind, my body tensed up even more. What if I had made a different choice? What if I went with them? The more I tried to rewrite the past, the more my body tensed up. And the more I tensed up, the stronger the emotions built.
I looked up in the sky, now a bright pink next to the bright blue water and I prayed, Dear God, please don’t let this be true. Please let Jenny and Mark be ok.
Right then, a falling star floated across the horizon.
I knew they were gone.
A week later, my grandfather passed away.
A week after that, the guy I was seeing told me he got another girl pregnant.
My world shattered and all that was left was grief.
Years later I found myself back on the same beach of that fateful day…
I wonder if trees grieve the loss of their leaves?
I pondered to myself as I looked up at the palm tree, it’s massive leaves swaying in the breeze.
With the gritty sand working it’s way between my toes and the smell of salt air filling my nostrils, I felt my constant companion, grief, begin to rise up in my belly.
It had been five years since the accident, but as I stood on the very same beach where I watched Jenny and Mark get on the boat and drive out the channel, never to be seen again, it all came flooding back in.
What happened? Why didn’t I stop them? Where they together?
I’d been asking these questions since the moment they went missing. From what we knew, it was likely that they had gone into an underwater cave and gotten lost. I felt the tension tighten around my eyes. For so long, I thought that if I could figure out the answers to these questions that it would magically bring Jenny and Mark back to life.
But all it ever did was bring about more questions.
I sat down on the beach with my toes right on the edge so the waves gently rolled over them. I looked up at the night sky, which was now lit up by a blanket and a question I had never asked bubbled up to the surface.
I began to pray out loud.
God… where they with you the moment they passed? Did they invite you into their hearts as they passed?
I pushed and took a deep breath.
Where they with you?
Tears streamed down my face as I imagined their last breath. The thought of being alone in that final moment rattled me. I couldn’t imagine them being in that cave, knowing they were going to die, and being all alone.
I don’t know if the voice was in my head or if it was out loud, but there was a clear, audible voice that echoed through me.
That’s when God responded,
“Laura, they weren’t alone. I was with them.”
A sense of peace washed over me.
I may never know what happened that day, but in my heart, I know that Jenny and Mark weren’t alone because God was with them.
…………………….
It’s been nearly 18 years since Jenny and Mark went missing. The grief of their loss is still present in my every day life.
As human beings, I think we try so hard to ‘make sense’ of life. We create these images and ideals of what it’s supposed to look like and be like. And when a loss happens — especially a tragic, unexpected loss — that picture shatters.
Grief is there to fill the cracks and remind us of the love that still connects us.
For the longest time, that grief was so big and overwhelming that I fought it and did everything I could to shove it back down. I watched as people I loved had no idea how to handle me or my grief because the cracks in my life were so big.
Now I know to let the grief in. Let it fill the cracks. Dance with it. Create with it. Because underneath the sadness is a deep sense of love, joy and connection.
Today, grief reminds me that we are all held by a source greater than ourselves.
And that source, whether you call it God, Universe, or Spirit, is love.
