There is something like a bubble, a time of limbo, for families who have lost someone close. The time between the death of that person and a funeral sort of stands still. Much is going on, for sure, as plans have to be made and friends and family have to be notified. But it’s sort of surreal for those closest to the departed. Our lives stand still, on the inside, and we wonder how everyone else in the world keeps going about their business when our world has just changed forever.
My elderly aunt has died peacefully. My uncle died almost a year ago to the day, in the same hospice facility as she. My cousins were with each of them when they passed on. He became ill and died rather quickly. She took her time. The meanest of diseases, Alzheimers, had taken her recollection of her children a decade ago.
The loss of a child or younger person brings a kind of life-raping grief that I can’t imagine is ever consolable. My aunt’s slow and steady passing still leaves her family grieving, for sure. But they can be consoled, she had a long life, and for a few days they’re in this bubble – the in between time – until there is closure.