This may sound dumb, but believe me, it is true: at least his family got the chance to say goodbye. Right now it hurts more than anything in the world, everything is upside down and inside out...but in a few months, they will come to realize how fortunate they were to have the opportunity to accept and understand the inevitable. Many people never have that chance.
I know. I was there. Having the chance to say goodbye is probably the most important event that helped me through my grief and has allowed me to move on and live my life as my late husband wanted.
They will learn to live with a lot of things that happened in the final days; they will learn to live around the rest.
When they begin to emerge from their grief, they will still be forever changed. Life as it was even 6 days ago is no more. "Normalcy" is different forever.
When they are ready to move on, hopefully they will realize that continuing in their new lives is, in reality, a celebration of the memory of him. They are all who they are today because of him.
There is a rough road ahead. Even though it was well known he was terminal, there is this illogical part of the human being, albeit a small part, that holds on to that .00000001% miracle hope.
They have alot of hard work ahead. After the funeral is when it kicks in. Settling the estate, disposition of property, removing his name from accounts and property, insurances, mail coming in his name, stumbling across a note to himself that was tucked in a desk drawer 8 years ago and forgotten. Things to do that will make them sick to their stomachs, giving them the feeling of gold-digging ghouls. Not so. These things HAVE to be done. He would know that.
There will be dreams and sightings and smells and sounds. Those are, I believe, to give us comfort of their memory.
The most important thing about grief? Roll with it. Let it do what it wants to do, because it is going to do what it wants anyway and-believe me-fighting it makes it worse.
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