Some love survives by becoming remembrance.

When a person is gone, the love has to change occupation. It cannot be spent on them directly anymore, so it becomes attention paid to what they left, the stories, the habits, the people they loved. That is not a lesser form of it. Remembrance is love still doing work, just work of a different kind.

Give the remembering a place to happen rather than leaving it to ambush you. A yearly meal, a walk on a certain date, a photograph somewhere you will actually see it. Love with an outlet is easier to carry than love with none.