And slowly the world began to move again.

And slowly the world began to move again.

Whether I'm ready for it or not, the world, and my life, is moving on.  Responsibilities don't go away, they pile up and lurk, waiting for you.  As do happy things, which I am also not ready for quite yet.

During it all, I must remember what once was. And try not to imagine what can never be.  It will be a slow healing process.  I can't imagine life ever being the same again.  And it won't be.  Not completely.

But I'll learn.

And begin anew.

Because I must begin anew.  Life starts over for me now.  I have to learn all over again how to live this life, this gift.  Because I've learned in the worst possible way that life is a gift, not a burden to be endured.  And I am often guilty of forgetting, in the day to day bustle, to actually live.

And live is what I must do.

I won't be alone in my journey into this new world.  There are hundreds if not thousands who were touched by Nate's life.  We'll all do our best to live our lives in such a way that when we think of him, we feel that we are living up to his memory.

How do we do that? By being who we are, living authentically, consciously. This life needs to have even more connection and love.  It needs to have more purpose.  More quiet times to enjoy just being.  More hugs.  More laughs.  Just more.

Just more.

Nathan, you will always be a part of my life.  You have occupied that space in my life for over 17 years, since I first found out you existed in your mom.  You cannot exit that space.  Your body may left this world, but your spirit will remain in that space in my life, guiding me, reminding me of what matters most.  And reminding me of happy times when each day I stumble upon something that stirs a memory of you.

Always, always, you will be with me.