The Hollow of Loss

“When we lose someone we love we must learn not to live without them, but to live with the love they left behind” – Anonymous

I recently lost my mother.

To death. To that land of no return. To that unfathomable hollow.

A place, indescribable.

Swallowing me.

Keeping me captive.

Releasing me but for a moment.

A respite – believing I have come through the worst .

Disappearing again.

An unravelling.

Of everything.

Of me.



Disorientated in this unfamiliar landscape.

And yet, I get through. Through the day, the night. The memories and dreaming.

Where she once was, now lives an echo.

An echo caught in my ears.

Like a catch in my throat.

Caught off guard as if blinded by sudden sunlight.

The interruption of a brief moment.

Of wonder. Of beauty. Of acceptance.

Awe at the fullness.

The fullness of it all.

I stand frozen in the perfection of life, and the living, and the loss.

Until tears fill up the empty hollows everywhere.

I want to remember.

I want to speak her name.

I want to live her love.

Her love for me.

The love she was.

The love she remains.

The love that pulls me out of the hollow.

But until then, I will grieve.

I will unravel.

I will mourn.

I will remember .

I will look for her.



I find her in my heart.

Where the hollow will be fertile. With growth and newness and life.

Grief and loss finding their place, in the shape of my life.

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