My father died a few weeks ago and I have been thinking ever since about the nature of goneness. Death is at once both very real and totally unreal. Even if you have faith, even if you believe they go to a better place it's still a pretty difficult thing to get your head around.
Somebody is there and then they're not, it's a simple as that. But it's not. Because they go on living inside you. The impact somebody has on your life becomes part of the very fabric of your being so they go on living despite not physically being there.
Great thinkers and poets and writers down through the centuries have pondered the strangeness of this . . . . I doubt if I'll come up with anything new, it's just my turn to think about, is all.