MOVING ON

We had a roommate here in our Stapleton, Staten Island house one time and who briefly stayed with us, as in less than a week if I recall it right. He's a paramedic, of small stature, a native New Yorker, and with a bearded face (then). He's a sweet fellow and soft spoken. What surprised me a lot about him was how he almost looks like a paradoxical figure to my mind up to now and he's one of those who could change his image in a few days, perhaps like a chameleon. That's precisely why I got to chat with him as I was thinking he's a new fellow who's living or most probably visiting us. I usually remember faces even if I've not seen them in long years, but in this case, I failed to recognize that I was talking with the same guy whom I met one evening when I came home to have him introduced to me by our landlord. On that afternoon occasion while I was doing my chores around the house, my curiosity got me and I decided to ask him how's he doing. I would soo

Can someone tell me how to move on from the grief I've had since learning about John's death? He was found dead in his home, after cops got into his apartment when family members were worrying about unanswered phone calls, as well as unexplained absence from his work. The service held less than a week after John died was well attended by his grieving family members, loved ones, and friends. He was not there anymore, not even his body. John's body must have been cremated following his preference which I also heard from him in one of our talks when he was still around. No ashes but there were floral arrangements. I didn't ask for details about his suicide nor about other details during the service from his sisters nor his father; it was one of the most awkward way of meeting up people the first time (though I have heard a lot about certain people in the room from John himself). I read about the suicide from another posting in other blogs. His Father, whom I got to talk