After a busy morning not finding the genealogy papers, G and I had a simple lunch together. He went off to work, and suddenly I became aware that I was alone in the house. Just alone. All of a sudden, life seemed very empty.
So odd. The rooms seemed cavernous weighted down by lack of. No sounds. Dark.
I’ve spent much of my life alone and loved it. Never before have I been aware of the aloneness though…the emptiness. My overstuffed rooms and life seemed suddenly hollow, unoccupied by anything tangible…oh, so in need.
Of course those few empty hours filled rapidly. Scanning a few sketches found in the garage, reading, roasting a chicken, not dancing on the head of a pin, all filled the time till himself returned from the museum.
The memory of that emptiness stayed with me though,