Parents die. Children may or may not do their best to keep the ties close, but the geographic and emotional center is gone.
It is the way of the world.
Sometimes, new geographic and emotional centers have been forming, even before the old ones passed away. Children marry and have their own children. For a while, the family expands. Like a cell dividing, it separates but the molecule remains.
Until death comes.
Life goes on as it must. It has always been this way; it seems likely that it always will be.
The Great Hand of Nature turns the kaleidoscope and shuffles the elements; new beauty arises.
Yes, someone close to me is dying. I am struggling to accept it.