The Weight of Emptiness

 Look closely...there is something there.  Just a weathered shell now, but once it was full.  Full of joy and life and, yes, at times sorrow but, nonetheless, full.

There was a time when no one could imagine that it would be abandoned and forgotten...empty.

 Forever empty. 

This strange and wretched year has left me numb and empty.

In the space of less than 13 months, I have known more death than I care to: My beloved Snowdog, my precious mother, an uncle, two aunts, a cousin, a friend, as well as my sister-in-law's brother and my sister's sister-in-law.  

And, a month ago, my husband of 35 years passed away.

Things had not been well with us for some time, but the circumstances of his passing were horrific and something I still cannot bring myself to speak of.

Each and every one of the passings took a piece of me...especially Mason's and my mother's.

But this one...this one cut me to the quick.

Perhaps it was the culmination of it all...perhaps it was the circumstances.

Or maybe it was what was left unsaid and undone...and what was said and done in equal measure.

In any event, I am not the person I was, nor are there enough pieces left to pick up to put me back together.

I cannot put into words the emptiness it left me with.  It was like a cold, dark, shroud enveloped me.

The utter nothingness is overwhelming and has challenged everything I have believed.  It is a different kind of grief.

I never knew that emptiness could weigh so heavily.