A Clock In Memoriam

Evan Gill, 1993–2018, with wife Lauren. Photo by KayleyLorrainePhotography.com

There are times when writing gets me through pain and heartache or even to stretch and broaden joy and happiness. And then there are some things that transcend words. Either I simply haven’t learned the words or they just haven’t been created yet. It’s times like these when the latter becomes true in the worst of ways. We can only state that there aren’t words. No words. Not even one that can hypothesize or. quantify. Boundless. Empty. Raw. Rage. Fear. Pain. Nothing is enough.

But it doesn’t anger me. It doesn’t deter me. This lacking cannot and will not deprive me of a feeling. Loss. Stolen. Taken. These words have no ground to stand upon in the face of Life & Love & Hope. This feeling, it won’t fade quickly. Things will move slowly for a while. Let them. Moments will pass at a centuries pace. In those years of a moment, the closest I can ever get to the right word is Time.

For Evan.

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