You filled a hole for her when he was gone, a giant, babysized hole.

You filled a hole again for her when her only other he was gone, a lifesize, sinking hole of infinite silence.

But, when the shot came, and it was you who was gone, no sized replacement, no volume of fill in the stillness could ease her wringing ears, her tremorhands. No amount of anything elseness could steady her tattered, waning footsteps.

You were her fill in all the blanks, her rejoice over spilled milk soaking up the cracks. You were the sounds in the house, the warm little body that snuck into her bed at night for snuggles, the reminder that for all she has lost, she was still findable, she was found.

She shutters now, alone in her chair, in the new silence you left. She closes her eyes for the eternal fall into the last hole she will know… without you.