The pain of bereavement is an organic thing – it does not stay the same. It changes and develops just like the person who has been lost would have changed and developed. We did not lose only the 19-year-old Sean whom we loved so much. We lost the 20-year-old Sean, the 21-year-old Sean, and now the 22-year-old Sean. And so it will go on, for the rest of our lives in this world. We lost his joys, his tribulations, his company … his children. We lost his friends (although we may see some of them from time to time). We lost his future friends and colleagues. The void left by his passing does not diminish – it grows larger as his life would have. It cannot be properly filled.
Yet it is filled to some degree by memories of Sean, by the pride and joy of having known him, and by the feeling that somehow he is still around – not just in the heads of those who knew him, but in a real, albeit intangible, sense – and that all is well.
We have proof of the indelibility of love, which is not just a figment of our brain cells but a force in the universe – a river in which we swim.