Closed eyes, heart not beating, but a living love.

Death is tough for the people left behind on earth.

The mightiest power of death is not that it can make people die, but that it can make the people you left behind want to stop living.

He Is Not Dead

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.

I’d give in to the grief but make sure I wasn’t loud enough to draw attention from those who think words will make me feel better.

It hurts when they're gone. And it doesn't matter if it's slow or fast, whether it's a long drawn-out disease or an unexpected accident. When they're gone the world turns upside down and you're left holding on, trying not to fall off.