I miss them

Though I stopped crying every moment I stop moving and there is no longer and empty black pit of feeling where my heart was, that doesn't mean I have stopped missing my grandma, my friend Ed and my friend Leslie.

I miss them. I still want to cry every now and then. I want to hear them, hug them, and give them kisses. It isn't always sad. Sometimes I smile because something funny reminds me of them, but I still miss them, even underneath that smile. I am also sad because these were really creative people who produced beautiful works of art (dance, quilts, paintings, stories,...). They will no longer create and I miss their work.

I was just listening to the song by Denis Witmer about not wanting to let go of someone you love eventhough they are dead.

Part of me doesn't want to stop hurting because I am afraid that means I have really lost them. The rationale is that right now, the pain is the last tangible thing I have left that is associated with them. Once that is gone, all I have left are faded memories that will recede into the grey-black soup of deleted memories. The sharp edges of these remembrances will soften, the bonds that hold their molecules will undo. They will dissipate. Maybe a kernel will be left but that will be so distilled and reduced that it will bear little resemblance to the original. It's like a theoretical physicist's representation of a cow ("let this point source represent the cow").