You ever just... stop? Like, mid-sentence. In a meeting. Talking about Q4 numbers – boring stuff, whatever – and the word just... *gone*. Poof. Like it was never there. I was trying to say "leverage," I think? Or "optimize"? Something simple, something I say like, twenty times a day. And it just *vanished*. My mouth kept moving but nothing came out. Everyone just looked at me. My boss. The new grad. I just kinda laughed it off like "Haha, Monday, right?" but inside I was just... cold. It's been happening more. Since Mom passed. She was sick for so long, you know? Years. I was doing everything. Doctors, meds, bills, cleaning her place, mine too. My kids are grown, out of the house, so it was just... me. And her. Non-stop. Then she was gone. And for a second, it was like, RELIEF. Pure, unfiltered, awful relief. And then... nothing. Just quiet. Too quiet. My brain feels like a dusty room now. Like someone came in and took out all the furniture. Is that weird? To feel empty after all that? Does everyone feel this? Now it’s just me, staring at my computer screen, trying to remember what a synonym for "synergy" is, and drawing a blank. Forty-eight. Isn't that too young for this? You hear about people losing it later, like 70s, 80s. But 48? I keep thinking about my dad. He got forgetful before he went, too. Is that what this is? The beginning? Or am I just... tired? Like, really, truly bone-deep tired from everything that just ended. I don't know. Just needed to say it out loud. Into the void, I guess. It's just... scary. The silence. And the missing words. Both of 'em.