Write because you miss your friend:

Perhaps just before you logged on today, you were shopping for groceries. You got into your chilly car, removed your mask, and watched your breath cloud the front seat. You turned the radio on. And the song? The Beatles: Here Comes The Sun — the song playing at your high school on graduation morning, as your class lined up in the cafeteria, signing yearbooks and preparing to walk to the football field. Your friend J, who passed 2 months ago after 3 weeks on a ventilator, was beside you, holding a small orangeade carton in one hand. She took a sip, but coughed, and orange droplets stained the white, shiny gown. The two of you laughed and laughed. You thought you would never be able to stop.

We all recall:

This memory, triggered by a song, may not be yours, but you have your own. They are locked into your mind’s eye. Write them down. Remember and honor the stories of who you lost.

A year from now, four years from now:

. . . you will take what you wrote out of a drawer and be glad you did this. Those “sorry for your loss” posts and hug/care emoji’s will disappear. But your stories will remain.