. . .

it goes without saying that when someone dies it generally sucks. There are of course varying degrees of suckiness, depending on who you are to that person, or more so, who they were to you. but it has become my opinion that what sucks about death is sometimes not the death, but rather, what our world expects of us afterwards.

solemn faces and clothes. tears at the mention of their name. inability to be happy. depression. the need for friends and family to carry us through.
... and peace after time.

for some there is always peace
for some there is never peace
for most there is a little of both

JD was beautiful. Always will be. And I do miss him.
But there are no tears. And on most levels I am happy.
Yet everytime I hear his name, see his picture, or think of him I feel awful...
Because I feel as if I am not sad enough, not broken up enough by the world's standards.
I want to tell my friends and family that he died, but not for sympathy for me-
rather, sympathy for themselves that they will never know him. or for his wife and his children, that they will no longer sit down to dinner with him, or go on vacation with him.
Or just sympathy for the world. Because it has lost quite a man, and because it is so wrapped up in expectations of pain that is it missing out on the love.

So instead of calling all my friends and telling them, I will just think fondly of him whenever he comes to mind and send a smile and a soft hello upwards from time to time.

He knows that he is missed


he can see the hole in our hearts