Each day, I move a little farther away from his death. It almost seems like it's still a dream I'm having. A week ago, I saw his poor, broken face. I held his cold hands. I touched his lifeless feet. For the last time. Seeing him then; it seems like a lifetime has already passed by. I never knew there would be a last time. Or a never again. Or a no more. I never knew I would see him empty. Sometimes I feel like once I get back to life, some of him might fade from my memory. I might forget his voice, his expressions, or his laugh. There are already parts of this experience that are fading. Almost too much to bear. It is so hard.