A storm brews in my soul.

A storm that has raged inside of me for the last sixteen months, actually longer than that.

The waves began to churn and the horizon darkened when I found out my daddy had cancer.

The thunder rumbled as he began chemo, radiation, pills of all kinds, an endless parade of doctor’s.

Drops began to fall as quickly as the hairs fell from his head and the pounds dropped from his larger than life frame.

The rain blinded me and lightning struck when Gregory died, leaving me unable to see the shore.

The fog settled on me, pushing me down with it’s cold weight and blurring my sight of the life inside me that I thought surely was gone.

I sloshed along the shores of my grief and anger, often walking in circles again and again, looking for the sun, the moon, the light of anything good.

I began to see flashes along the horizon.

I felt the caress from a slight breeze of hope, a calm healing trade wind.

I began to feel the warmth of the sun, the goodnight kiss of the moon, the stars smiling on me.

I see the moon, and the moon sees me I would tell Gregory in my dreams.

Then the winds changed.

The clouds covered the moon, the sun, the stars.

The whitecaps returned.

The thunder grumbled across my mind like a hungry beast, it’s lightning flashing warnings in my brain.

Then the darkness came and took my father.

And the rain began again.

Slowly, but steady.

And it comes.

And it goes.

Like the waves, it comes crashing in and pulls back out, taunting my mind, my heart , my soul.

The storm brews in my soul still.

I will not drown.

I will not let it take me under.