You think if they died, the world would stop. But it doesn't stop and that's the agony. Your personal world stops while the rest of the world charges forward, dragging you with it. There is no choice, only to pick up your feet and soldier on. Survival takes over. Does it mean because we can go on that the pain isn't there? The pain is always lurking in the shadows, waiting for an inopportune time to remind you that life will never be the same.

My aunt had a good analogy - people, especially family members, are woven into a cloth of your life. Sometimes you don't realize that they are part of the same fabric until part of that material is ripped away. The tear isn't clean. As the fibers rip from one another violently, it creates a painful frayed edge. Each torn strand dangling helplessly, yearning to be sewn together again.