My husband loved going to Lake Powell. While most of the time he went with others to fish, there were times when we would all go. He loved to fish and our kids loved being towed behind the boat. I like something else.

We would go into a canyon, put on our life vests and jump into the water. While we are good swimmers, the life vest gave us security and freedom to spend a lot of time in the water. We would swim and bob around, our yelling and laughter echoing off the walls of the narrow, sandstone canyons. Sometimes another boat would come by. Pause that thought. Now think how water behaves when moved around in your bathtub. It hits those straight, hard sides and sends the waves back. Those waves collide with the waves heading toward the sides of the bathtub and poof! lots of waves. That is what happens in those canyons when boats go by.

It was really fun encountering those waves. We would all bob up and down, sometimes quite vigorously while the laws of physics did their thing. Then it would calm down again. For the most enjoyment, I found it best to face the waves rather than let them get you from the side or from behind.

I still have waves of grief, sometimes huge waves of grief. At first, I would picture them being gigantic, sneaky ocean waves, knocking me to the ground either washing me up on the shore or trying to pull me into the sea. I would be fighting them, struggling to get out of their grasp. I would be gasping for air, trying to survive. While I still have waves of grief, I now picture something else and feel so much more peace.

I picture being at Lake Powell, with family and friends around me. I picture myself safely buckled in my life vest, knowing it would be nearly impossible to drown. I picture the crazy, wall bouncing waves around me. I picture myself turning to face them. I picture myself riding them, up and down, up and down. I picture them gradually calming around me. And finally, I picture myself looking around, seeing my family and friends, all of us safe and sound. I picture riding through through the waves rather then them riding through me. I now like Lake Powell even more.