The Ocean Took My son…Then This Happened
My 14 year old son was lost at sea for 7 days. When the Coast Guard told me they were going to suspend the search… my brother asked me to do the unthinkable.
A couple of days after the search ended, I was sitting with both of my brothers and my father, nd my oldest brother said, “Let’s go in the ocean.”
I didn’t say anything. But I know I had a look on my face like, Are you serious?! You want me to go into the same water that just took my son? I remember thinking, !’ I know what you’re trying to do—trying to get me to be strong, trying to force some healing moment. Just like you to do something like that.
But then… I heard Perry. Not audibly. But like a whisper in my soul: ‘C’mon, Dad. Don’t be like that.’ So… we went. Me, my two brothers, and my dad—we walked into the water. And the moment it hit my body… I broke. I cried, I screamed, my brothers had to hold me up. It was raw, it was real That moment wrecked me.
But looking back…That was the first time I realized I didn’t have to be strong to survive this. I just had to be real.To let it break me—so something new could begin. Because sometimes the most sacred healing doesn’t look like peace…It looks like being held while you fall apart.
If you're carrying something heavy—don’t carry it alone.
lmk in the comments and Tell me who held you when you broke.
Or who you wish had.
