When a friend dies, you expect the world to stop. You expect silence and stillness, if only for a moment. But whatever was happening keeps happening, and your faithful ears continue to bring the words and sounds of the room full of people. Your faithful eyes close, but cannot stay closed, and even still report the darkness of light flickering beyond your lids. Your faithful body stills, but only so much, as your heart keeps beating despite all odds and your breath moves in and out. That silence and stillness, that momentary stop in time, never comes. As you begin to realize that, you begin to realize your beloved friend, mentor, teacher, is well and truly gone. Time will not stop for him or for you.
This is a gift. Time saves us from living in that terrible, tragic moment forever. It pushes us on and teaches us many things. It gave us the gift of their presence, however short, and now it gives again the gift of our sorrow to remind us: time moves forever on, but our lives are short and cherished.
I will miss you, my friend, and cherish your memories, and try very hard to see them without the rose-tinted glasses – as you taught me. I will get up and continue the work each day. And my world will never be entirely still or entirely silent until the day I come to join you. I shall cherish each day until then, especially the ones I was lucky enough to share with you.