Time heals all wounds, it's a lie, I believe.
Scott Miller wrote that, while still with the V-Roys. Time doesn't heal all wounds. Time may help wounds. Time may conceal wounds, maybe. But it won't heal them.
I had considered drafting a long, wordy essay about grief or losing a loved one or something. My intentions were fine but I'd have been faking it. It's too personal and far too individual of a subject. You can't put a blanket over it. We all feel different things at different times. No one needs a book to learn how to properly grieve. One might think they do and maybe they get something out of it, maybe something in there applies to them. But it's a unique experience for everyone. Plus, I could never adequately do such a thing anyway. I still have all his things in my garage after nearly seven years. Just can't seem to get through all the damn t-shirts and toys and little gadgets and literally thousands of CDs and cassettes. Odd to even write that. It's just stuff. And it's all right out there cluttering my garage. Some day I'll get to it. Some day.