When you truly love someone and that person dies, it hurts so much that you cannot breathe… that is the contract. Yet it is plain to all that love itself does not die, for love can only exist as life. When a soul is called home, love’s gravity is not diminished. It expands. I call my friend. We talk away all of our problems; thousands of miles apart. I cannot be part of her everyday life—shopping, dog walking, Sunday afternoons—but she is real; her love is real although she is not here. Love connects us to those we love, however great the mists that blind us. Did someone tell you they no longer exist? Feel love’s weight as it pulls and longs: does it not ask you to seek and understand? Just for a moment, close your eyes and open to the permanence of love. Those you love will always be part of your life: even now, their light falls upon you, for they love you, also.