On March 26 it will be seven years since my mother passed away.
Every time you access a memory, remember something this person shared, you feel the loss. The loss of the one person who would’ve been the reality-check on what actually happened. The person who could serve to triangulate the memory — “Was this how it really was?”
Every time something happens — something good or something bad — you really feel the loss of the one you want to call and tell it to and get the response you were looking for — the “I’m SO sorry.” or “What the f#!@k ??” or “OH-that is so GREAT!!” or "What was she/he THINKING?"
Every time some milestone is approaching or the dream of a milestone filters into your brain — a graduation, a birthday, an anniversary, a wedding, a birth — you sadden at the knowledge that you will never be able to share this future with the one you loved. They won't be present and you feel the death a little bit more.
Some things help. Some do not. It’s hard to say what can make someone feel better about the loss, but in truth, it’s completely subjective. It matters not whether the departed was loved or hated. Both extremes lead to an inner dying. The death of one we hated is often worse as we never get to resolve what was not right; what wasn't fair; what has been left unsaid.