It’s no secret that I love the ocean. I have a board on Pinterest dedicated to ocean pictures and quotes. I have a t-shirt that says “I’d Rather be at the Beach,” and throughout my house there are several jars with shells I’ve collected.

Nevertheless, I live in the Berkshires surrounded by mountains. They’re pretty, but I’m a summer-stare-at-the-sun-as-it-sinks-into-the-sea kind of girl, while I live in a lose-yourself-in-the-woods-and-wildlife kind of area. First world problem for sure.

This summer I’m counting the days until I get in a late summer trip to Cape Cod, and hoping the weather is kind to me.

My trip will coincide with what should have been my 33rd wedding anniversary. The Cape is where we would likely have celebrated, the place we grew to love, and so I’m going. Tears are salt water, after all, and even though I plan to have a great time I will definitely cry. I plan to sob. I miss my husband so let’s just get that out of the way right now.

People ask me how I am. When I say I am fine what I mean is I’m not going to jump off a bridge or slit my wrists. It doesn’t mean that I am not desperately sad or that I don’t cry and yell and beg my husband to stop being dead.

I count on time making things better. I waver between hopeful and hopeless. I’m not the first person to lose the love of their life.

In the midst of all the pain and waiting I actually live my life. It’s a little robotic but you “fake it ’til you make it” or so I am told. And so, since I have no ocean I have found myself wandering in the woods. I have my dog, Daisy, and she needs to run and sniff and do dog things so off we go. I’ve been shown trails and special remote areas and while it’s not the big blue sea it is something special.

I’ve seen deer, bear, wild rabbit and porcupine. I’ve seen frogs and bright pink lizards. The other day a huge heron flew over Daisy’s head while she drank from the stream. I’ve gotten horribly lost and ended up far from where I began. I’ve found babbling brooks, wildflowers of every color, mushrooms of every size, and huge twisted pieces of metal that make no sense being where they are.

I have found a place to walk, think, talk out loud, yell, cry, and literally fall to the ground screaming with no need to stifle any of it. It feels great. It is my therapy.

I’ve developed quite the relationship with the woods this summer. I am able to grieve without suggestions, questions or advice.  The woods with all the damn bugs biting me and Daisy running off to chase whatever it is her nose has discovered reminds me I am just one tiny piece of the puzzle.

While the ocean remains number one it has a little competition now.