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).”