You feel this inescapable sense of loss, of knowing they're not around any longer, and that you're never going to see them again for as long as you live. You're never going to be able to hear their laugh, feel their touch, breathe their scent, share those priceless moments of unspoken understanding and closeness. All you have left is a memory of their fleeting existence in the world, and in your life.
But you comfort yourself, and you tell yourself, it's not permanent; you're going to see them again, in the next life.
But others ask: but how do you know? How can you know?
Faith, I suppose.
It must be faith.
A silent, blind hope; a knowing peace of mind; an intuitive understanding that they are on the other side, waiting for you to join them. You haven't forgotten them, and they haven't forgotten you. "It's been too long," they say, "but here you are, at last, at the end of your road in one life, just as I was at mine all those decades back."
You let go.
You'll see them again. You know you will.
The thought soothes you immeasurably.
The power of faith. In the face of death.