Grief and Surrealism

Bill died this morning at 8:50. He had a couple spurts of alertness last night and early this morning. Apparently, around 7am, he became so still and his breathing so shallow that everyone was positive that he had died. However, when the hospice nurse arrived to pronounce death, she heard his heart still beating...very faintly and slowly. That continued for another hour or so, before she stopped hearing a heartbeat and pronounced him dead.

Nina was present when Bill died, as were many other family members. He died in bed, knowing that he was surrounded by people who loved him. Now our focus has turned to Nina and supporting her as much as possible in the next few days. Please keep her in your prayers, as well as the rest of the family.

I'm discovering that there is a surreal element to grief. There are times when it just seems like nothing's changed and then all of a sudden it hits me that Bill will never poke fun at me again or make us pancakes in the morning. I went into the bedroom and saw his body, and instantly knew that Bill was no longer there. All that was left was a shell, and I really had no attachment to the shell. I took a peek and ducked out of the room. But when the folks came from the funeral home (they came in a minivan with the seats folded down, btw) and took him out on the gurney, suddenly it hit me what that shell meant; that I'd never see Bill again. I desperately wanted to see him alive again, just once more. At that point, I broke down and sobbed in James' arms.

I'm trying to view my grief in the proper perspective; I've known Bill as a daughter-in-law for six years. Nina has known him since she was four years old; first as a sister-in-law/friend, and later as a wife (long story there---it's kosher, though). James has known him all his life, first as an uncle by marriage and later as a stepfather. Bill's five children, 20-some grandchildren, and 15 or so great-grandchildren haven't known a life without him. In other words, I haven't known Bill for very long at all. If my grief is so painful at times, what must they be feeling?

In short, this is teaching me what an absolute novice I am to the intricacies of dying and grief.