Missing you. My experience with the grieving process and time

Memories of you escaped from my eyes and rolled down my face yesterday.  They say that time heals all wounds.  And maybe it does.  Maybe it's easier to be without you than it was then.  But sometimes it's not.  Almost 10 years. Wow.  That's hard to believe.  Sometimes it seems like it wasn't that long ago.  Other times it seems like it was a whole lifetime ago.
Does time really make it easier?  Does time really even matter?  I don't cry as often as I used to, but sometimes, I cry harder and longer than I did then.  I still sometimes see something I think you would like or something that reminds me of you. Or someone will say something that reminds me of you.  Or even say I did something that reminds them of you.  Like yesterday, when I was looking for something.  It was the way I said it, the mannerisms behind it, that made him think of you.  He said I was acting like you.  And I was, in a way.  And I started crying, and I couldn't stop.  I couldn't keep doing what I was doing because I couldn't see through the tears.  Even now, I can't see well enough to really type.
Losing you was hard on so many of us.  It still is.  I'm not going to deny this.  I can't even begin to say how many times I've wanted to run to you for advice.  You were always there to listen, even if you didn't know what to do.  And sometimes, that was enough.  But I do know one thing you would say about all this.  You would say it's ok to cry.  But, that it's also ok to remember the happy times and to think fondly of you.  And I do, believe me, I do. A lot.  I think we all do.
Time, such a funny concept.  One we really don't understand at all.  How much time does it take to get over the loss of a loved one?  All sorts of people have their theories.  But, really, how can you put a number on something so precious?  It will get easier with time they say.  And yes, somedays, I can honestly say that it has.  But, other days, the elusive fabric that holds time together falls away, and it feels like it was yesterday.  And no amount of reasoning can convince my emotions otherwise.  "Oh, it was so long ago, how can I cry like this?"  But, for that brief moment, it wasn't so long ago.  Time no longer exists, and it all is so fresh.  Funny how that works.
And, maybe that's ok.  Maybe it's ok to forget how long ago it was, and let those tears out.  Isn't that part of the healing process?  Does anyone ever truly heal from the grieving process?  If they did, wouldn't that mean they would never have days that they sit down and bawl their eyes out?  Yes, things become easier, the crying becomes less, the days of depression, anger, denial, etc., lessen, but they never truly go away.  Yes, we can start to look back at those memories and smile.  But, sometimes... sometimes... nothing can stop the tears.  Nothing can stop the "what ifs?"  Nothing can stop the anger.  Maybe, the denial goes away.  Enough memories made without you sort of help that along.  But the others?  Those just get pushed to the background, until one day, out of the blue, something triggers them, and you find yourself bawling on the floor.  And I think that's ok.  There's nothing wrong with us in that moment.  Time has just dissolved around us, and everything is fresh again.
We feel so weak and vulnerable in that moment, but really, we aren't.  That was something I had a very hard time accepting.  Expressing grief doesn't make us weak.  It reminds us that we are human.  That we are still very much alive.  Still very much able to live our lives.  And I know that is something you would want us to do. 
I also know that you would want us to honor you by keeping those parts of you we cherished alive in the little mannerisms we picked up from you.  In the way we say things.  In the way we treat people.  Much like I did yesterday.  Because, after all, imitation is the greatest flattery of all, and I can't think of a better way to keep your memory alive than that.
Thank you for all you did for me.  I love you, eternally.