You expect time to heal the wounds of someone's passing. And, that once you get through that first god-awful year, the ones that follow are more filled with love and warm memories than of pain. I think that is true with many people we lose. It has been that way with my father, who died thirteen years ago.

But with others, the loss only deepens. Three years ago today, one of my closest friends died unexpectedly, filling me with grief I never knew I could feel. Richard was part of my atmosphere, someone I could count on, and I knew he would always be there for me.

I sobbed for two weeks without stopping when I learned of his death so very far away. I would never see him again or hear his warm voice promising to visit. I would never hear him call me foolish, silly or crazy in that way that should have sparked anger but made me feel loved instead. This was a man whom all should have known. Richard was a passionate rain. I grew because of him. I became the strength he saw in me. And sometimes it feels like he took it with him when he left.

Life is a landscape. When we look outside our window, we see some people as beautiful flowering plants, others, thorny bushes. There are annuals and perennials and too many weeds. Most of these relationships wither with time, replaced by others. A special few continue to blossom, adding beauty to our days. If we’re lucky, two or three big trees punctuate this place, unwavering, constant, throwing their comforting shade across the years. When others leave. we grieve, but time eventually fills up the hole with soft moss or new sprouts and something wonderful eventually grows to heal what was lost. But when one of the big trees gets ripped from our world, nothing ever replaces it and our landscape is changed forever. Richard was one of those big trees, out at the corners my life, strong, powerful, protective.

One day I will join him, wherever he went, and knowing that diminishes my own fear of death. There’s something comforting about knowing someone you loved is waiting, ready to catch you when you fall from life. Maybe that’s why those we love so much sometimes leave too early. Could we have made a deal before birth that this time, he would leave first?

Richard died on this day and tonight I will go to the place we met many years ago and sit and share a martini with his memory. Richard died on this day and maybe if I keep telling myself that, somehow I will believe it and my heart will finally accept those ugly words.

I guess pain is a small price to pay for having him in my life for as long as I did. In some strange way, we are closer than ever before. He now belongs to the invisibles and is with me whenever my thoughts go to him. I feel him laugh at my worries, still share my schemes. And on some lucky nights, he comes to me in dreams and lives again.

For all of you who have lost one of your big trees, I send my blessings. And I send hope that you come to realize that what you lost was worth what you gained in loving them. It doesn’t take away the pain. Nothing ever will. But there are others who love us. We are alive. I can’t think of a better way to honor Richard than living my life fully, passionately, the way he would have.