In a personal essay, author Hannah Richell reflects on the aftermath of her husband Matt's death in a surfing accident in Sydney a decade ago, and what she has since learned about surviving grief. She recounts the moment police arrived at her home to deliver the news, the disorienting shock of disbelief that followed, and the devastating experience of identifying his body at the morgue, illustrating how a single, ordinary day irrevocably altered her family's life.

The piece details the immediate, visceral aftermath of the loss, from the phone call alerting her that something was wrong to the raw physical details of viewing her husband's body, including autopsy stitches and cuts from the accident. Richell, who was left to raise a young daughter alone, uses the ten-year anniversary to revisit Tamarama beach, framing her long journey through grief as something akin to being repeatedly buffeted by waves she has slowly learned to read and withstand.