No kidding. I'm dreading that moment since both of my parents are still alive. I can't imagine looking at their tombstone or urn, knowing that they're not alive anymore.
I can't really put it in words.
It's a relief when it's just so sad that you bawl your eyes out, because before that it's just this emptiness. And before that there's the time it takes for you to acknowledge that it happened. For example, for us it was a week later, when we set up the table for dinner and we noticed we had put 4 places instead of 3.
But even if I put it in words, the thing is that it's different for everyone. It was different for my mother, it was different for my brother, it was different for my grandma, for my uncle, for my aunt, and so on. Everyone grieves their way, when they can, as far as it takes, and no one can predict the collateral outcomes.
And not only different people deal with it in different ways, how a death happens makes a lot of difference. I can tell about my father, who told me a joke, entered the bathroom to brush his teeth, and had a sudden heart attack. It was so sudden we spent a good deal of the day like zombies and one uncle of ours dealt with the funeral paperwork. And that's not the worse experience I can tell about. Wish it was.
But I can also tell about my late grandma, which passed away in 2019, and while many people were crying a lot at the funeral, I wasn't. I was relieved, and a bit guilty about that. Because I did what could to help while she lived, and she wasn't a nice neither strong woman, in many ways. I noticed the crying ones were who didn't help a lot, or visit her much, while she lived. So, at least for me, her death was somewhat peaceful, specially compared with her weakening physical and mental health in her last years.
So, it really depends, it's as unique as the people involved, and as unique as the relations of said people.
