Death is the absence
of life. It is the white space on a painting, an empty hospital bed, a silent
room, a closet of clothes. Death is the extinction of a species of only one. I
closed my eyes. I woke, and he was gone. They took his body in the night. They
came for the bed and the wheelchair by noon. We reduced his life to a photo and
two columns in the newspaper. We sang his favorite songs. We spoke, “he was
good friend, a wonderful father and an average golfer.”
Emotion is the currency of all good writers. But what if there is no emotion? What if death brings not regret, or anger, or longing, or even peace, but rather echoes? Did he call my name? I turned my head. Was that him, walking into his office?
Where is the salty taste of my tears? I become white space.
Can someone please
tell me how to feel?
-
I was sixteen and working my first job at Wendy’s Old Fashioned Hamburgers. We were a lively crew. Jerry had the front register, Juanita and Javier were making sandwiches and scooping fries, Greg had the grill, and I was on the back register.
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We arrive at 6 am. I sign a piece of paper which informs me of the risks of my day procedure using phrases such as “unforeseen side effects, including death.” A plastic bracelet is secured around my wrist. Promptly at 7 am, I kiss my husband goodbye and follow a stern-looking nurse through a side door. She points me to a changing room.
-
I think I have screwed up DNA. Amidst those A’s, C’s, G’s and T’s I must have a J or an L. You see, I just don’t feel guilty. Nope. Sorry. Well, actually I’m not sorry. I don’t even feel guilty for not feeling guilty.
-
I believe every licensed driver should be issued a traffic dart gun.
-
Death is the absence of life. It is the white space on a painting, an empty hospital bed, a silent room, a closet of clothes. Death is the extinction of a species of only one. I closed my eyes. I woke, and he was gone. They took his body in the night. They came for […]
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Powerful and beautifully written. And I think most of us have been there.
Hi Veronica, I’m still learning WordPress. I wasn’t certain you received my reply to your thoughtful comment. Thank you, Kidd
Yes, death brings absence – that space where once there was something, someone. Your tribute is lovely and moving.
Thank you, Dianna
The hollow emptiness one feels after losing a parent, is as individual as a fingerprint. When I lost my parents, each bore a different melancholy. Thank you sharing this.
Thank you for your understanding comment. I was sitting in the church like an ice cube, while everyone around me was crying.