This has been a year of too much and not enough. Too much Covid, too much controversy, too much death, too much gone wrong. And so much unknown. This is also the year of not enough. Too little PPE, too little known, too little truth. Empty food bins, empty wallets. Vacant buildings and deserted streets. Empty places.
This has been a year of vast space between people. Politically, physically, geographically, we are at a distance. Six feet apart from loved ones. Not far enough away from others. Joined by common goals or separated by fundamental beliefs there is always this notion of space. How close can we be, how far apart are we? For some there is no room – crowded living spaces with everyone home. For others home is painfully quiet, no comings and goings, no company around the table.
Empty space is both beautiful and terrible. Empty space is room for wonder. An empty spot is a place to land. Its also where someone once was. I am lucky to have this beautiful empty field to romp in with my dogs. The magic is that it is both vacant and so full. It can be lonely, I can be alone. It is peacefully quiet – all I can hear is the cardinals and robins singing in the old crab apple tree. The ground is so free of markings that I can make patterns with my tracks. There is no trail until the dogs break though the snow and offer me a path.
Who doesn’t crave an empty house until that is all they have? Who doesn’t wish for quiet until the TV is the only choice?
Empty space is full of possibility and full of endings. Two people I love have died this year and there was no gathering, no coming together. This is happening everywhere. It blows my mind to think of how many people are grieving. Grieving for the over 1.7 million people who have died. It rendered me speechless (something rare for me). I felt I had so little to add. And losing Rachid, compared to all this…. What did I have to offer? Too much grief in the world. I had nothing to write. The blog froze.
All I can say is what I know. Seven rich years later, during a world wide pandemic, in the middle of this empty but full field – I love being alone – I was devastated to be left alone. Both things are true. I want sit next to my mom. I want to lie on the couch with my daughter. I want my boys to be able to move out. I want everyone home safe and sound. Its a push and pull. Its the glass half empty…need I say more. Ok, I will, I think I am a half full kind of person. I think you might get it.
I wish for everyone – space to heal, places of comfort, room to grow, touch and closeness. And the distance to see how you were never alone.
3 thoughts on “Empty Space”
I love your writing. You have such a way with words.
This piece is so poignant.
Merry Christmas my friend! 🎁
Therese M. Oliver CLHMS Keller Williams Boston North West 200 Baker Ave, Concord MA 01742 1 Militia Drive, Lexington, MA 02421 Website: ThereseOliver.com Email: ThereseOliver@kw.com Phone: 617-759-5562
Caroline…..you’ve captured this year in all its messiness & pain with your usual grace.
Thank you for saying what many of us could not.
your far away, but still near by cousin