But things happen everyday. Like how we lose people all the time. Like her, like dad, and now him. Superstitious beliefs would call for a "cleansing" ritual. To rid of "bad-luck" that befalls us. Then we mourn, and cry, and blame ourselves. For not doing enough, for not saying enough, for not acting enough.
We think of the "what ifs" and cry some more. And we wonder, and ponder, we pause and think, and recall memories so engraved in our minds, but more so we think of the very last moments, on what could have been done.
We blame ourselves, curse a little bit more, cry a lot, and sooner or later we run out of tears and we get on with our lives, a day at a time.
We never forget, we just choose not to remember.
There will be times when we scroll through old posts or pictures, or we somehow spot something that reminds us of that certain someone, and we start the cycle again.
We think, feel, smile and cry all at the same time, as if they were still around.
Then you snap out of it. For you know they are never returning. All that remains are memories that were created. And for that, it should be the foundation of which we live our lives. Memories.