Impact

11.05.07

The impact of your death and passing is something that you could never have imagined, John.

In the last words you left us, in your best handwriting, you told us how you felt that you had ruined everything; messed it all up.

And how wrong you were.

With every day that passes, the impact of your death grows.

I know that I will miss you until I myself pass, until I die, until my last breath is drawn.

And I can feel sad for myself - because there is so much to miss. On a selfish level, all the obvious things:-the physical and emotional connection, the fun, the endless conversations with you that punctuated my day, and every one of those days that we spent together; and every one of those dreams that we projected for our future.

But I am not the only one. This song of sorrow is not singular.

There are countless others to whom this grief is occasioned and for whom your death is virtually insurmountable.

I cannot quite comprehend how you thought we would not mourn your passing, nor how you believed that this world would be a better place without you. I can assure you that is not the case.

We miss you so terribly. Every conversation finds its way back to you somehow - for all that we try, you are still here in every exchange and every empty moment of the day.

I hope that you hear us when we invoke you and hope that you can understand that for us, being without you is a huge and often futile effort.