I began noticing how often we use the word “still” when we talk about someone who has died. I still love him. I still wear my rings. I still talk to him.

Without realizing it, that one little word can suggest that perhaps, by now, we shouldn't. But love doesn't disappear because someone dies, and I don't need to qualify the ways Dave remains part of my life. I love him. I wear my rings. I talk to him.

No “still” required.