She Stood

She stood in disbelief as he walked out the door. Tears streamed down her face. She paced. She had no clue what to do. She stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room looking at the back door from which he just left.

She stood in disbelief as the policemen walked in her front door. Tears streamed down her face. She paced. She had no clue what to do. She didn’t hear a word. She stood in the doorway between the hallway and the living room looking into the kitchen and at the back door from which he left.

She stood in disbelief as people filed passed her. No tears fell down her face. She didn’t pace. She had no clue what to do. She stood, accepting condolences and listening to stories that brought others joy, picturing the back door from which he left.

She stood in disbelief as everyone walked slowly to their cars. Tears once again fell down her face. She didn’t pace, she didn’t move. She had no clue what to do. She stood, in silence – head lowered and shoulders hunched, looking into the deep dark hole and picturing the back door from which he left.

She stood in disbelief in the front yard of those she called family. She wiped away her tears. She walked slowly to the front door. She had no clue what to do. She walked in, silently, and watched people talk, mingle, eat, and laugh. She stood against the wall and looked through the living room into the kitchen at a back door he once used and sighed.

She stood in disbelief outside on the porch looking the back door. Tears once again flowing freely down her face. Hand on the doorknob, shaking. She couldn’t move. She had no clue what to do. With a deep breath she opened the door. She walked over the threshold into their home, alone. The first of many times to come, she realized.  Closing the door, the room enveloped her. In that instance she became so aware of the vast emptiness of her soul. She turned and stared at the back door from which he left.

 She stood.