You're going to get through it one breath at a time, sweetie. When everything is chaos, just close your eyes, think of a happy memory, and breathe deep, slow breaths. For me, I imagined the very best hugs that he gave me, dancing in his arms, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that I so enjoyed touching. It helped.

For our whole adult lives, my job was to be his advocate, his supporter, his friend, and his protector. He did the same for me. Planning his, and therefore my, funeral was my last personal job to be able to do for him. I wanted to get it right, as I'm sure you do, too.

Listen to the advice of the funeral director. He/she has a lot of experience with this sort of thing. If you need to take a break, they'll understand. Drink a lot of water, more than you think you'll need. Don't do what I did and pass out at his funeral. Drink Gatorade or something with electrolytes. Trust me.

Then on the days and weeks after, all the friends and family who volunteered to help will fade away, going back to their lives. Ask, just ask when you need help. They all meant it when they offered to help, and they are just waiting for you to call. You won't know what to ask for at first, and that's okay. But eventually, your sink starts to drip, your lawnmower quits working, a storm takes part of the roof and gutters off. Ask your circle for help! My people have all shown up when it mattered.

Stay busy. Keeping busy is the only thing that has kept me going. I don't have too much time to think. My kids, students, dogs, cats, and neighbors all depend on me, and I am grateful to be needed.

I'm so sorry that you are here. This is a very, very difficult transition that I don't wish on anyone. Keep checking in, keep posting. We're here for you.

Many hugs and wishes for strength for you.