A day of which we remember those who have come only to pass. 
Does that include the living? To me, it does. The grief of losing that person is much the same as watching someone die. 
At 6, I watched my father be eaten alive by cancer. Few days later, sitting in the front seat of the church, by myself, I sat there looking at my father in a casket. My mom would join me, she would allow me to kiss my father goodbye. I would return to my seat to hear my Mother uncontrollably cry. 
I've never forgotten the moments of that day. When I hear his name, the very first thought that enters my mind is kissing him goodbye. In living color. 
2 years later, my grandmother would pass in her sleep.
And the list continues to today.  
I stopped going to funerals, wakes and even visiting people in hospitals and homes. I want to remember them happy, healthy, not barely alive, skin and bone and then dead in a casket. 
I've dealt with death all my life, while I don't fear it, I fear for those I leave to live.  The world we live in is evil. Prove me wrong.  
So today, as we enter memorial weekend, I take a moment to remember moments of those who have come, only to pass through my life.
To those of you who are still alive: Cory and Fhylishia,  you'll never be forgotten, unloved, unmissed, will always have a place in my memory of the moments that I cherish most. 

As our time on earth grows unpredictable, unknown, and seemingly false day by day - I would hope for those of you who can reach out to your loved so.  A short text takes 24 seconds. A phone long as you'd like it to be. 

Tomorrow isn't promised.