There's a hole in the world now.
In the place where he was, there's now just nothing.
A center, like no other, of memory and hope and knowledge and affection
which once inhabited the earth
is gone.
Only a gap remains.
A perspective on this world, unique in this world,
which once moved about within this world,
has been rubbed out.
Only a void is left.
There's nobody now who saw just what he saw,
knows what he knew, remembers what he remembered,
loves what he loved.
A person, an irreplaceable person is gone.
Never again will anyone apprehend the world quite the way he did.
Never again will anyone inhabit the world the way he did.
Questions I have can never now get answers.
The world is emptier.
My son is gone.
Only a hole remains, a void, a gap,
never to be filled
(Nicholas Wolterstorff)
In the place where he was, there's now just nothing.
A center, like no other, of memory and hope and knowledge and affection
which once inhabited the earth
is gone.
Only a gap remains.
A perspective on this world, unique in this world,
which once moved about within this world,
has been rubbed out.
Only a void is left.
There's nobody now who saw just what he saw,
knows what he knew, remembers what he remembered,
loves what he loved.
A person, an irreplaceable person is gone.
Never again will anyone apprehend the world quite the way he did.
Never again will anyone inhabit the world the way he did.
Questions I have can never now get answers.
The world is emptier.
My son is gone.
Only a hole remains, a void, a gap,
never to be filled
(Nicholas Wolterstorff)
Foto: Blumen, niedergelegt auf der Treppe des Hauses Grosvenor Square 50, Dublin
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