5/21/16
New Update

I left Virginia to see my mother, happy because my friend was healing, and proud of myself for the way I handled it.
He died while I was home, and all I could do to comfort him was to sing to him over the phone.
Now I'm almost at the end of my trip and I find that I'm having a hard time preparing to go back.

I guess that while I was away, it was easier to keep the sadness at bay because I didn't have to see the unused toys. I didn't have to wake up at night and look across the room at a vacant bed. I didn't have to be careful about rolling over and squishing the ball of fur that was sleeping next to me.  And I didn't have to leave the bathroom door open by just *that* much so a cat could get in if he wanted to.
But now, I'm having trouble.

Now, I'm dreading the trip.
Now, there will be a vacant bed, and unused toys, and there will be one empty spot in the bed, and another on the sidewalk where my friends used to wait for me until I got home.

I've come a long way. I've learned a lesson about the kindness of others.  I've learned to trust in my own strength, and in the Universe to provide what I could not.  I've learned that I can let go when I have to, and that knowing this didn't make it any less painful.

But I also learned this;
Love doesn't disappear when someone dies.  It gets mixed with pain, and guilt, and regret.  It gets overshadowed by some pretty powerful emotions, but it's always there.  And, someday, if I'm lucky, I'll reach a point where the pain is gone, and only the love remains.