I started seeing my therapist when she was living in CT and her office was literally - I could walk - across the street from my apartment. We really had a connection, so when she moved to California, she gave me the option of continuing our sessions remotely, or she would refer me to a colleague. I think that relationship is important, so I opted for remote, for telehealth. This was back in... 2014 I think, so well before COVID (we had a sort of morbid laugh about the controversy about telehealth). I still see her, an hour a week by video. Perfect world, sure, we would meet in person and interact, but this has been the most productive therapeutic relationship I've ever been in, so there's no desire to change.
Jay, your post angers me; you should be able to find a therapist as easy as finding a foot doctor. I've experienced that sort of difficulty in finding a therapist for my stepson and for my daughter (who, through perseverance have both found therapists that have helped them to deal with certain issues).
As for the notion of losing someone close, I'm NOT a big "closure" guy - I find that concept to be horribly abused by some people, and what they call "closure" is simply an inability to separate from toxic/harmful circumstances - but I will say this: when I was younger, my aunt (who lived in walking distance to Sandy Hook School, by the way) was dating a guy named Joe who was as an uncle to me. I loved that guy. He and my aunt would come to our house and listen to music, and they would take me and my brother to the movies and stuff. He got cancer, and finally, as a sort of "estate planning" move, married my aunt. I was told by my parents that he was really excited to be called "Uncle Joe" when they were married. He got really sick and I only saw him once more, and wasn't sure if they had actually been married at the time, so I called him "Joe" and later found out that they HAD been married at that time. It bothered me for a LONG time that I never did call him "Uncle Joe" like he wanted. Sounds so silly in the cold light of day, but it's a big deal to me. I have come to peace with it, but it's still something I am aware of and think about on occasion.