Surviving a Tsunami

It is days like this when it is quiet, dark, stormy and I am by myself that it hits me. The immensity of the wave that hit me. The wave that took over my life and washed away my family, and in its destruction left me with a debris field of broken dreams, legal nightmares, heart ache and financial ruin. There are still mornings just before full consciousness of awakening that I forget and look at the sun streaming in the window and I think about calling David or visiting Gary. It is then that I start to sink into the dark, cold waters and have to remind myself to swim, to breath, to take one more stroke towards the surface. Maybe the Tsunami would have been easier to handle had it been one massive wave but for three years it kept coming, day after day, another wave threatening to push me back under. They were all washed out, one by one, for one reason or another, my husband, then one brother after the other. What remained for me was in ruins an instead of a helping hand to pull me to shore, I was approached by sharks waiting to attack, waiting to take what little was left and finish me off. It seemed I floated for days in the cold, murky water, fighting each wave, looking for a hand. I would swim towards shore only to be pushed back further into the ocean with the next wave. Could no one see me drowning? Did anyone care? Could they not see the sharks circling around me making an already potentially deadly situation even more deadly? It has rained most of the night and day. There is a flood warning. The sky is black. The waves are choppy and growing. So the next few weeks will tell. Will anyone reach out a hand or will the sharks win? I am getting tired of fighting the waves.