Living in the VOID

Living in the VOID

I’ve exhausted all of the stages of grief around this particular issue, and now I’m at a loss around what to feel next.

Each time I get yet another neighbor’s news, I work through another layer of loss.

First there is DENIAL. How is that possible? It can’t be true.

Then, ANGERIt’s not fair! How can all these neighbors have it, and not us?!

Next, BARGAININGOkay, I won’t complain and then I’ll be nicely surprised when I get the call.

DEPRESSIONI’m never getting it.  I’m in some gray zone, some rural hell, where they keep passing over me.

ACCEPTANCEEveryone else has it, and I don’t, and that’s just the way it is. I can deal with it. (I’ve spent so long in this stage that I deserve an award.)

Kubler-Ross could not have imagined the grief over the inaccessibility of high speed internet in rural Vermont so she neglected to include the steps after Acceptance which are the ones I’m needing right now.

Following her landmark work on grief, two more stages have been slipped in by others:  shock and testing.

But I’ve already done TESTING.  I secretly glance up at the airport bar on my laptop every once and awhile on the off chance that I can catch myself already connected.

The other step, I’m saving.  I’m saving SHOCK for the day when I actually have those grey bars filled in with black–from my own livingroom!

For now, I’m stuck in the VOID. Because the only other option is to cycle back through the steps–and I refuse to do that, no matter what Kubler-Ross says.

I’m sitting down on theses STEPS and waiting–practicing my best SHOCKed face so that the moment that WIFI arrives, it won’t know that what I really want to say is:


Kelly Salasin