Gonna Need a Bigger Boat
by Nan Zastrow
“Gonna need a bigger boat”
when adversity changes your relationship with grief
“Dear God, be good to me…. the sea is so big, and my boat is so small.”
The 50th anniversary of the Jaws movies recently aired on television, and I decided to binge watch the series. Of course, I anticipated and waited for the iconic line: “Gonna need a bigger boat.” Delighted, I smiled at its familiarity. I hit the rewind and listened again. It resonated with my life today and a tiny little “ark “given to me by a friend after our son, Chad died, decades ago. Along with the ark was a little plaque that stated, “Dear God, be good to me…. the sea is so big, and my boat is so small.” That plaque still sits on my shelf, and I often find myself repeating it during difficult times.
Grief might be compared to the sea. Its size and its depth are intimidating yet it intrigues our curiosity to explore its vast uncertainty and unknowns. When Chad died unexpectedly, I was inadequately prepared for the profound impact of significant loss. A glimpse of the sunrise or sunset on the horizon was inconceivable. I underestimated the heartbreak and restoration it would take to accept my new reality. I was navigating troubled waters in a tiny boat with no compass and no idea of where I was going. The one thing I had to console me was my husband. Together we paddled through the endless sorrow together.
We relied on three virtues to guide us through the murky waters ahead.
- Perseverance: This is the power behind uncertainty and fear. It was the intention of committing to our promise to each other (of getting through this together). Perseverance served as an anchor providing stability and a force that we wouldn’t give up despite obstacles, disappointments, and setbacks.
- Faith: I consider myself a person of faith, but I also know when times are difficult it’s easy to question one’s faith . Faith is the expectation that inspires courage in the face of adversity. It gives you confidence to trust and step forward to accept the unknown challenges before you
- I read about the “Walk of Faith” in Blackpool, England. A tower was built that is 528 ft tall with the “walk” 380ft from street level. A platform floor was constructed of two sheets of laminated glass inviting people to walk across it…giving them an illusion of walking on air. A woman related her story of clenched fists and pounding heartbeats attempting to get enough courage to take a step though she was assured it was safe. Facing our grief together, there were many times it took raw courage to trust a path (choice) that seemed precarious. We also agreed, if not for faith, we wouldn’t have been able to cross that invisible bridge between grief and healing. What was on the other side was greater than our fear.
- Hope: Even when grief prompts us to ask "why me?", hope is still vital. The power of hope helped us navigate the uncertainty by proving a sense of direction and motivation. It provided strength as though someone threw out a lifeline in moments of doubt and despair. We trusted the intense pain wouldn’t last forever. Some days we had to borrow hope. And some days we wanted to share it with others. We began a habit of sharing something we were grateful for at the end of each day. That’s the rescuing power of hope.
A Second Significant Loss
Adversity sneaks into our lives without warning and tests our limits. Typically, not just once but many times. It’s no stranger to me. Adversity in the form of significant loss entered my life once again with the death of my husband a little over two years ago. It forced me to seek shelter in the fantasy of my tiny boat again…hoping it could calm the storms of incredible pain and disbelief. I instinctively knew the virtues that sustained Gary and me, together, weren’t going to be enough this time around. Things were very different . Together, we still “lived” life quite normally after an extended period of grieving. But this time I was alone. The torment of destructible waves crashed against the shelter of my tiny boat.
When “we” becomes “me” and you’ve lost your partner in life who could accompany you through difficult times, the sea seems even more frightening, deeper and bigger than before. My perspective changed. The challenges and decades between significant loss made me much more aware of the agony and power of grief. The familiar phrase replayed in my head. There was no doubt “ I was gonna need a bigger boat.”
New Perspective. New Relationship with Grief
This writing is not about dwelling on my specific circumstances but rather about changing my relationship and accepting a “new kind of grief” –one that required building my resilience from the bottom up.
This new relationship doesn’t deny, pretend or suppress grief. Instead, it gave me permission to take charge as well as take care of myself. It required “learning and strengthening new skills. Acceptance took on a new meaning of “it is what it is”, not how I wished it would be. So, I began learning and loading my bigger boat with my new perspective. Included, but not limited to, my original virtues, I added: embracing change, becoming independent, being uncomfortable in my changed world, dealing with negative baggage and intrusive thoughts, self-esteem and self-acceptance etc. It truly meant “living differently”; not just seeing life differently.
Where is my boat today? My journey is not over and may never be. But I’m not giving up. I continue to learn and share. When life throws you adversity and you are feeling loss of control…maybe ”You’re gonna need a bigger boat!” Throw out the useless anchor that’s holding you back. Head for calmer waters and focus on the sunrise in the horizon. You may not see it now, but it’s there! The waves of grief will calm. The uncertainty and adversities of life may still happen. We can’t change that. But we can gain greater confidence to deal with their impact. Never give up! Trust the journey.
About the Author
Nan Zastrow
In 2018, Wings-a Grief Education Ministry will celebrate its 25th anniversary as a non-profit organization. Wings was created as a ministry of hope by Nan and Gary Zastrow after the death of their son, Chad Zastrow. On April 16, 1993, Chad died as a result of suicide. Nan is the author of five books, a quarterly online grief eLetter and dozens of articles published in various resources. Since 2003, Nan regularly publishes articles in Grief Digest Magazine. Visit the website at: www.wingsgrief.org or the Wings Facebook page.
