The Nothing that's become Something
Jonathan Foster
It was June, 2015 and my little family of four — partner and I, 18, and 13-year-old — were in Colorado. It was a trip I’ll never forget. Not just for the mountains. We had been in them many times. Not just for the family spending time; thankfully that had happened a lot.
No, it was a trip I’ll never forget because it was the first time away without our daughter and as much as I enjoyed the four of us, it didn’t feel right, and it didn’t feel right because it wasn’t right. I kept thinking about us as a unit … we were missing something … we were different … we were 4/5s. This is how I wrote about it in indigo: the color of grief
4/5s
became
the reality
in the span of a heartbeat
her heart stopped beating
in a span of a heartbeat
and we were 4/5s
a fraction
a fraction
doesn’t work
like a whole
something
someone
is missing
it’s more than
just someone missing
it’s also the role
the someone played
her role in our family
was something like
a catalyst or
initiator
we didn’t assign the role
it’s just who she was
from day one
more wind
than weathervane
more thermostat
than thermometer
like, if the boys
were mired in a mood
she could pull them out
but flip the script
and boys had
little chance
she was her own
strong
intentional
capable
person
remember being with
extended family once
when great grandmother fainted
and passed out for a moment
she recovered quickly
but for a few minutes
we were unsure of
how it would turn out
several of the
pre-teenaged cousins
ran to the basement
upset about the event
but even more upset about
our girl not showing
enough emotion regarding possibility
that great grandmother might
no longer be alive
their concerns escalated
in volume and intensity
until finally
our girl stood up
with fists pointed to the ground
and announced
to the whole group
look
i’ll cry
once we find out grandma
is actually dead
the room calmed
apparently
the cousins thought
the logic was sound
yeah, she could
change the environment
when she wanted
remember the first real trip
we made as a fraction
“family” vacation
playing board games
so awkward
at some point during the evening
i sat back and watched
the four of us
doing our best
learning how to interact
without her
less neurochemicals
less laughter
less volume too
an image
materialized
in my mind’s eye
something revealing
neurological activity
within a group of people
yeah, some kind of
visual spectrometer kind of thing
displaying the interaction
bouncing around
within a family of five doing life
you know, interacting
playing
arguing
talking
singing
taking trips together
with her: a range of colors
burst across the display
without her: areas
noticeably muted
more than that
there were specific areas of
the visual projection
the thing displaying
the interaction
bouncing around
within a family of five doing life
you know, interacting
playing
arguing
talking
singing
taking trips together
that were completely dark
that night
after the board games
after the visual spectrometer kind of thing
yeah, that night
was the worst
couldn’t relax
couldn’t sleep
rotating ceiling fan
slowly
shadow of cloud and moon
i’d get up and go somewhere
but there was no place to go
to get away from my thoughts
to get away from me
to get away
kept thinking about
the way she could light
brothers up
kept thinking about
their neurological activity
changed forever
marriage changed forever
me changed
forever
kept seeing dark spots on
that stupid visual display
fuckin interactive visual spectrometer-thing
kept apologizing to whoever was listening
for saying fuck
just kept thinking about
how much fun it all
used to be
before the day
everything
changed
It was the sense of the missing … like, the nothing that was there that captured my attention … she was there … but then she was gone, and that nothingness kept us from being who we were.
Grief can be considered in many ways; indeed, in indigo, I seek to do just that, but one way it might be thought of is as a gap, a breach, a hole… it’s where the loved one once was. The thing is your love still exists … but the person who used to receive and return the love is no longer present … it’s an empty space … love’s still there, it’s just got nowhere to go.
I wrote somewhere recently that grief is an ache that winds up going everywhere, generally because it’s a love that winds up going nowhere, specifically.
No, it was a trip I’ll never forget because it was the first time away without our daughter and as much as I enjoyed the four of us, it didn’t feel right, and it didn’t feel right because it wasn’t right. I kept thinking about us as a unit … we were missing something … we were different … we were 4/5s. This is how I wrote about it in indigo: the color of grief
4/5s
became
the reality
in the span of a heartbeat
her heart stopped beating
in a span of a heartbeat
and we were 4/5s
a fraction
a fraction
doesn’t work
like a whole
something
someone
is missing
it’s more than
just someone missing
it’s also the role
the someone played
her role in our family
was something like
a catalyst or
initiator
we didn’t assign the role
it’s just who she was
from day one
more wind
than weathervane
more thermostat
than thermometer
like, if the boys
were mired in a mood
she could pull them out
but flip the script
and boys had
little chance
she was her own
strong
intentional
capable
person
remember being with
extended family once
when great grandmother fainted
and passed out for a moment
she recovered quickly
but for a few minutes
we were unsure of
how it would turn out
several of the
pre-teenaged cousins
ran to the basement
upset about the event
but even more upset about
our girl not showing
enough emotion regarding possibility
that great grandmother might
no longer be alive
their concerns escalated
in volume and intensity
until finally
our girl stood up
with fists pointed to the ground
and announced
to the whole group
look
i’ll cry
once we find out grandma
is actually dead
the room calmed
apparently
the cousins thought
the logic was sound
yeah, she could
change the environment
when she wanted
remember the first real trip
we made as a fraction
“family” vacation
playing board games
so awkward
at some point during the evening
i sat back and watched
the four of us
doing our best
learning how to interact
without her
less neurochemicals
less laughter
less volume too
an image
materialized
in my mind’s eye
something revealing
neurological activity
within a group of people
yeah, some kind of
visual spectrometer kind of thing
displaying the interaction
bouncing around
within a family of five doing life
you know, interacting
playing
arguing
talking
singing
taking trips together
with her: a range of colors
burst across the display
without her: areas
noticeably muted
more than that
there were specific areas of
the visual projection
the thing displaying
the interaction
bouncing around
within a family of five doing life
you know, interacting
playing
arguing
talking
singing
taking trips together
that were completely dark
that night
after the board games
after the visual spectrometer kind of thing
yeah, that night
was the worst
couldn’t relax
couldn’t sleep
rotating ceiling fan
slowly
shadow of cloud and moon
i’d get up and go somewhere
but there was no place to go
to get away from my thoughts
to get away from me
to get away
kept thinking about
the way she could light
brothers up
kept thinking about
their neurological activity
changed forever
marriage changed forever
me changed
forever
kept seeing dark spots on
that stupid visual display
fuckin interactive visual spectrometer-thing
kept apologizing to whoever was listening
for saying fuck
just kept thinking about
how much fun it all
used to be
before the day
everything
changed
It was the sense of the missing … like, the nothing that was there that captured my attention … she was there … but then she was gone, and that nothingness kept us from being who we were.
Grief can be considered in many ways; indeed, in indigo, I seek to do just that, but one way it might be thought of is as a gap, a breach, a hole… it’s where the loved one once was. The thing is your love still exists … but the person who used to receive and return the love is no longer present … it’s an empty space … love’s still there, it’s just got nowhere to go.
I wrote somewhere recently that grief is an ache that winds up going everywhere, generally because it’s a love that winds up going nowhere, specifically.
