To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow.
Seems too soon to have been a year ago. His life seems still more real than his death. What sense does it make to to feel like everything and nothing has changed? Weird.
Jordan said there was a deep sadness in my eyes over the last few days, and maybe so only because when my mind is at peace, it rests on him. Nothing about this is fair or simple, and I still like to believe that he chose to go. He wanted to go on ahead.
But I still wish he could see us now.
Father, I still trust you.