I'm sorry for your loss. I find the "memories wishes unfulfilled, desires unexpressed, promises made, waiting to be broken," is the worst part. And "waiting for the wind to stop and the pool to be silent again," a relief that never comes. It only becomes more and more distant, until it becomes so distant it is hard to even remember, unless called upon, or called forth.

Someone once told me, "The only way to get past pain is to go through it."

I think it is intrinsic in being human.

I think the island of hope is unintentionally, unobtrusively present, without drawing attention to itself. It is the heart. The real, physical heart. It just beats, and goes on, day after day, undaunted and undiscouraged.

I the real, physical heart. It is a symbol, an example of what to do. Continue. Beat on. Be there for the dawning of tomorrow.

There is new research on the mind-body connection, but it escapes me now. It does seem that the heart beating day after day within you has a wisdom of it's own which is wise to listen to.