In memory of my friend, who believed in the sacredness of the journey, and whose presence I profoundly miss. When last I saw him, he reached across the table and gave me a fist-bump (my first!) because of some good news I had to share. If I could, I’d give him one now. There is joy in the mourning.
You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.