Nothing Murdered My Parents

My father fell from the sky. Nothing was there to catch him.

My mother had a blood clot block her heart. Nothing pumped through her veins.

In the case of my father, I chose to see it as a murder for a time. As though the man, on his first solo flight, decided on purpose to shear the tail off my father's plane, when Nothing would say a plane should be there in his path.

Age grew me out of the perspective that the accident had some "fault" associated with it. Understanding Nothing has freed me from all perspectives of fault, blame, and crime in the world.

I am grateful for Nothing, and for the clear role Nothing played in killing my parents. What would I be, if I had the idea Something had killed them?

Fearful of small things, and out of touch with the larger terror, the one that actually sets me free from all other fears. Nothing is guaranteed.

Everything is what it is. Anything can happen. Nothing is where it all came from, Nothing is where it will go.

Nothing is promised, and I take it as reassurance, like a kindly crone telling me, "I promise, in the end, you will have Nothing."

Nothing is the source and destination of everything, and the refuge where I no longer have to contend with it or attempt to contain it. I place my faith in Nothing, when Everything has happened, when Anything might be.

Nothing makes life precious. Life is not precious in its own right, but my knowing that it came from Nothing, my knowing that it comes to Nothing, makes it precious to me.