One week ago, my aunt Alice passed away. At 93, she had lived a long and happy life, ending her time on this mortal sphere still living in her own home, surrounded by a lifetime of belongings and photos and loved ones. It is how we all would wish to go, but for those left behind, it is always a struggle to let go.
The price of love is the grief you feel when they are gone. The cost is very high, although, of course it is worth the price. But that does not make it easier in the moment. And this moment is painful.
