The house is quiet. Everyone is sleeping, but my mind is not at rest.
It has been a week of losses, mine and others. Yet, the losses force me to reflect on life. We celebrated life this week. It’s a cycle–some die as others are born, but the new ones never replace the old. There is always a hole–a gaping wound–that, even when healed, leaves a dull ache.
Maybe we took our loved one for granted, overlooked the integral part she played in our lives, or assumed he would beat this as he had all the other times. Maybe we took for granted that there would be a next time.
Now it’s over and all we have are memories: countless encounters, frequent interactions and a significant presence, now significantly absent.
And we can’t stop the tears.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but how was it supposed to be? The end was inevitable, yet we’re surprised we’re here…at the end.