Yesterday was the fifth anniversary of the death of Joey Johnson. Joey died unexpectedly, in the night, of a complication of epilepsy which I think his parents didn't even know existed. His mother Karen writes eloquently about what it's like, at five years ~ or, at least, something of what it was like yesterday.
Zachary Shuck died nearly a year ago of suicide. His father John also writes eloquently of what it's like at that point ~ or, at least, something of what it was like at 3:00 this morning.
I generally feel both ways. Usually at the same time.