Like most things in an increasingly out-of-joint world, innocence has its thermodynamic arrow; a path that can only be traversed in one direction, a substance that can be destroyed but neither created nor synthesized.
We seek solace, then, from this entropy, in changeless things; that is to say, things to which our relationships are not only established, but cemented, largely because they have been destroyed, dispelled, or placed in an unrecoverable state.
Their vitality cannot vanish; as surely as there are entropic laws which govern the decay of these quantities, there are laws which govern the interaction of the products into which they decay. As a physical analogy borrowed from Fritjof Capra, fuel powers a motor, evidenced by the motion of its blades. When the motor stops, it cannot be said that the motion has "gone" anywhere; it has simply ceased. It cannot be said that it has now vanished any more than it can be said that it was never there.