Death is hell. An unexpected death is a war. It is a war of attrition. The death comes in the form of shock and awe. Slowly and then very rapidly, people join you on the battlefield. They pick up arms and stand by your side.
A funeral feels like the end. It is a moment in time to claim a victory. It is a hill to stand on and a place to shout from, "We made it." This is not the end though and anyone who has been to this battle can tell you so.
Soon, family, friends and well intended strangers will retire to their busy lives. All will be quiet after the war. You will be left with the best of intentions; left to pick up the pieces. You will be left to put together this life of yours. You'll be forced to do so without the one you love.
So, the death was just the first blow. It stings long after ashes have met the wind and caskets closed. With each passing day, the pain gets easier to bear, but it never retires. All will never truly be quiet.
Thanks for entering my world,