With death comes a release.
No, I do not mean for the dead, but for the living.
The living can love more fully in their memories,

letting pain go.  

Like cream which rises in fresh warm, white milk
The seconds, moments, hours, days, months, years
That was filled with joy rise to the top of our thoughts,

And we have that release of bitterness, pain, anger,
Now settled to the very bottom or are discarded completely.
Thus, it leaves an uncomfortable dissonance.