social norms of being related to the dying

I left the cocoon of my parents' home yesterday evening. We weren't even half way home when I lost my composure.

She holds on and her heart beats strongly against the growing tumor. The color has come back to her face. Her freshly painted nails aren't quite as stark against her white skin.

There I was the one saying it would be okay, we'd get through this. Yesterday evening and this morning I find myself faltering. The mere thought of saying thank you to well-wishers is enough to induce anger and tears.

As alone as I feel I'm not. Millions of people lose loved ones and have battled all these feelings from grief to rage to loneliness.

Seeing her set up in the hospice bed in the living room was becoming normal. We had our exchanges. She said "girls" to Carly and I poking fun at one another across her bed. A few more "I love you" than I've ever said before.

Well-wishers expressing their thoughts and prayers will become normal.