It sounds so trite to say there is pain and an empty place where there used to be something patched solid. But there it is. Maybe because this was a patched place and not whole to begin with, things feel a little differently this time. I know that a new patch will grow over it, is growing even now, like all the other losses large and small that one encounters with this much life and time. The pain will fade and the memory of the loss will remain, but the new patch will hold. Underneath for a while, will be the empty place, but it will almost or even completely fill over time. Age has an advantage perhaps. I know this place and have experience with patches and holes and pain.
I have such gratitude and feel such immense fortune that friends rushed in, coming forward to prop me up a bit after I fell, then stood and wobbled. They didn't ignore or erase the empty place or the pain, knowing that pain must work its own self out, but they helped to form the patch and reminded me just by their presence, that there is more that exists and life still ... that time and love heals almost all ... and that I am not alone.