Postscript to The Between

And thus begins another ending. I suppose it began two years ago and it was only me desperately trying to hold on; knowing the finality of it even then. Now it is done. Complete. I am no longer between. The days of organizing and packing are over; the        desk I loved, the contents of a home my basement held safe, on their way to Ireland.

I call to my son and hear no answer, so I go searching to find him sitting in the vacant basement. I ask why he is in the middle of a concrete floor in a dark basement with nothing in there. Asked why I sat there when it was full, we share a brief moment of understanding something has ended. Where I sat in sadness he sits in emptiness, contemplating how he will fill the void.

It is difficult thing to lose hope; to give up, to surrender to endings. Yet there it is. Done. No longer in sight. The magic eraser waived, the basement cleverly swept squeaky clean of anything that was ever there. And tomorrow we will begin again.

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