Pancake Breakfasts and Grief

Is it better to forget about the loss and move away from grief?  Or is it better to acknowledge the loss regularly... to remember...

There are regular memorial breakfasts at my local church in honor of Sam Frost.  They are hosted by Sam's Dad every other Thursday and they are attended by a loyal group - ten or fifteen of Sam's friends and my high school peers.

I walked into the back conference and kitchen area of the prehistoric church.  I was late, but I was there.  I had a groggy, before-school misdemeanor, but the scent of fresh blueberry pancakes danced around the room.  That seemed to awaken the socialite in me.  People were talking at there gray plastic tables.  I noticed the different social groups in the room.  Sam transcended clique boundaries, brought people together with his music. 

Mr. Frost was setting up a projector to play a slideshow of his son, of the videos and images that we've all seen.  It was nice to come together.  Dan Kennedy returned to me, as I mingled with my fellow diners and the yummy sausage that sat at a nearby table.  Dan carried a plate of plain pancakes.  "Why, thank you, Dan Kennedy," I said.  He smiled and then I walked into the kitchen to investigate.  Yes, just as I thought.  The blueberry pancakes.

Sam Frost... Gone, but never forgotten.

And that's when I started thinking.  Is there ever a right time to move on?  Is the pain easier when you don't have to face a computer file of the love you lost?  Is the pain easier when you don't have to feed a room full of Sam's closest friends, cousins, and random high school classmates?  I'm not sure.  I am sure that Mr. Frost is a strong man and a hero in many ways.  Part of me deeply wishes that Sam was alive to see how much he was loved...

So which is it?  Do we take grief head on?  Do we celebrate the life that was? Or do we let grief take it's own course?  Do we let ourselves forget... how do we heal?

Tell me what you think.  Should there be more pancake breakfasts in the world?