“If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is never to stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever.” – The Crow
To a bereaved, death is never sweet, no matter the age of the one passed, or the ideal for which life is forfeited.
The loss of a beloved is a colossal blow, perhaps the most massive calamity that can befall a soul.
The good thing, however, is that while a death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
Therefore, live respected and die regretted, so that the living can say you’re not dead to them because you’ll ever remain green in the garden of their memory.