In this case, it requires distance. 
Normally, it would require presence.
At least it would feel more substantial
because the person would be there
to hear the necessary words:

Please forgive me. 
I forgive you. 
I love you.

However, in this case, the distance 
of years and absence of substance 
because of death become the effectual 
and necessary combination to say those 
same words. 

Why? Too many triggers — 
reminders (expected and assuredly delivered) 
responses,
   reactions, 
      denials, 
          obfuscations, 

so instead of having 
				to fight those battles 
and 
         weave around those obstacles 
and 
            step with tippy-toes through 
                               those mine fields, 
one can 
            begin to see 

(perhaps, even in one’s life and one’s 
responses to life, some of the good 
things that had gotten through and 
mirrored and sometimes that thing 
or those things pop out and give 
us the Ah, ha! moment) 

the good and then appreciate and, 

in blessed absentia and because it 
is in absentia, it is for the speaker, 
the one who has the substance and 
stands or sits right here and  says:

Please forgive me.
I forgive you. 
I love you.  

And, perhaps, then to another or others
of substance, 

“I have a new appreciation for…(fill 
in the blank).”