let us be, god

 There's this comfort in not losing your loved ones. You don't call them very often, but you know they're there. There's this easiness in the heart. But if you do the math, you will get miserable. How many times a year do you travel to see them? One? How many years do you think they have left? Maybe three? Four tops? You're gonna see them only four more times. Numbers hurt. They hold your throat tight. The comfort goes and leaves this strange and frightened feeling in your skin. How can I change this? What did I do to deserve such faith? Let us be, God. We don't ask for too much.