The death of a living being close to the heart is entirely natural and inevitable; there is nothing unusual or terrifying about it. The beings we love leave and die—that is the only truth. Death is one of life’s great certainties, promised to all, and every being will come to know it.
What makes it unbearably difficult for those left behind is the deafening silence that follows the death of a loved one. That weight is omnipresent, tangible, visible—it takes the shape of a heavy, black mass settling on our chest. And as it rests there, its weight carves a void within us, a chasm deeper than the mythological underworld of the dead. While space agencies race to unlock the secrets of cosmic black holes, humanity has yet to understand the nature of the void left in our chest when a loved one is gone.
I do not know...
